Vanished
by LilyWanKenobi
Summary: (Revised, AU) It's been three years since Anakin abandoned Padmé on Naboo and was killed. Now, on a mission, Padmé, Obi-Wan and Satine are shot down by a mysterious robed person called 'The Master', who immediately takes an interest in a certain Nubian senator. When she gets a chance to escape, will she take it, or will she stay behind with this very familiar stranger?
1. Prologue

_(Revised and reposted) It's been three years since Anakin abandoned Padmé on Naboo and was killed. Now, on their way home from a mission, Padmé, Obi-Wan, and Satine are shot down by a mysterious robed person called 'The Master', who immediately takes an interest in a certain Nubian senator. When she gets a chance to escape, will she take it, or will she stay behind with this very familiar stranger? (Yes, I suck at summaries. R &R!)_

* * *

The sun had already set on Naboo's lake country, darkness beginnng to settle on Padmé's lake house. The twin suns reflected on the motionless waters, yet, no one was present to view them.

The two sole inhabitants of the vast estate were, indeed, far from thinking about the beauty that was surrounding them. Instead, they were sitting in a room alone, both focused on the confession that had just been made, and the reply.

Finally, he spoke. "We could keep it a secret."

"Then we'd be living a lie- one we couldn't keep even if we wanted to," she was quick to retort, always the logical one. "I couldn't do that. Could you, Anakin? Could you live like that?"

He stared at her for a moment, his blue eyes intense. Defiantly she held his gaze, and finally, he looked back at the fire, defeated. "No, you're right. It would destroy us." He stood. "If you'll excuse me, I will retire. Good night, Senator."

She sighed. "Anakin, wait." He paused, turning back to her. She winced at the pain in his eyes. "I mean it when I say I can not have a relationship with you. Any sort of long-term affair would not work for either of us. But… I… I do feel something for you." She looked down at her hands. "All I can promise you is tonight. Please, let me give that to you. As the proof of my… feelings."

For a minute, he stood there, unmoving. Then, his shoulders slumped in defeat and he nodded.

"Good," Padmé said, forcing a smile. "Meet me in my room in an hour."

He made no indication that he heard her as he turned and left the room.

* * *

Padmé sat at her vanity, drumming her fingers impatiently on the glass. It had been over three hours since Anakin had lef her sitting in front of the fire. Had he changed his mind? If he had, he should have at least had the decency to tell her. She debated for the nth time whether or not she should try to find him, and as she always had, she decided in the negative.

* * *

Meanwhile, on Kamino, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi felt a sharp pain through the force. Searching it, he found the source.

His bond with Anakin had been severed.

* * *

At the same time, a stolen ship made the jump to hyperspace just after it was cleared by Theed Air Space Control.

* * *

"He gave you no indication that he was planning on leaving? None?" Obi-Wan asked, pacing.

Padmé Amidala sighed. "For the fifth time, no. How was I supposed to know he wasn't going to come back? I don't have your special talent of being able to read minds," she shot back.

He winced. "I'm sorry… I suppose I deserved that," he admitted ruefully, running a hand through his auburn hair. "It's just… I don't know. It's been two weeks, and we still haven't heard from him."

They were sitting in Padmé's penthouse, trying to put together all the clues on Anakin's disappearance. In truth, they both had other things to be doing, now that the galaxy was at war. Obi-Wan was supposed to be out on the front lines, and she was much needed in the senate. Instead, they were in her living room, sipping sapir tea and combing through the minuscule amount of clues they had.

She huffed in frustration, setting down her mug. "I think we need a break," she decided. Reaching for her remote, she turned on the holoprojector. "I wonder what's on the news?"

Obi-Wan sat up straighter. "Turn it up. A Jedi has been killed."

Padmé obliged, and they managed to catch the news anchors last words.

"...shot down earlier in a misunderstanding amongst the clones has been confirmed to be Jedi Padawan Anakin Skywalker, who was reported AWOL approximately a week ago by the Jedi Council. Back to you, Socoh."

The instant she stepped out of the turbo lift, Duchess Satine Kryze knew that something was wrong. Very wrong.

"Padmé?" she called into the penthouse. "Are you here?" The only response she received was the sound of sniffles and someone crying. "Padmé?" she called again, softer this time, as she entered the living area.

Her friend was sitting on the couch, curled up in a fetal position, tears streaming down her face. Beside her, with his arm around her comfortingly, was a familiar looking ginger headed man. As soon as she entered, he looked up, his eyes the color of a raincloud. They flickered in recognition, and he leaned down to whisper in Padmé's offer.

Padmé's head immediately jerked up, her eyes red and puffy. "Satine?" she croaked in a hoarse voice.

"Padmé, are you okay?" Satine asked, hurrying over to sit beside her friend. The ginger head man, whom she had given up trying to remember who he was, removed his arm from around Padmé. Whispering something in her ear again, he got up and disappeared into the kitchen.

Satine stared after him for a moment before turning back to Padmé. "What happened?"

The younger woman's lower lip trembled as she whispered in a sorrowful tone, "he… he… he's…" she swallowed. "He's… dead."

"Who, Padmé?" Satine probed. "Who's dead?"

"Ana… Ani… my Ani…"

She frowned. A boy named Annie? "Padmé, who died?"

"Anakin… Oh Ani, oh my Ani…" Padmé sobbed.

"Padmé, who is Annie?"

"Ani," a heavily accented voice said, "is Anakin Skywalker, who… the Senator… she had feelings for him. He died this morning in a misunderstanding with the authorities."

She knew that voice. "Obi-Wan?" she asked, her voice trembling as she looked up.

He nodded, setting a mug of steaming liquid in front of Padmé and offering her one. She took it, her hands shaking slightly as she watched him take a sip from his own.

He made a face, regarding the cup in displeasure. "Rich people caff," he muttered, setting it down as he sat on the couch opposite her. "I assume then, that you have not heard of Anakin's disappearance, your Grace?"

"I have to admit, I have never even heard of him before now," she confessed. "Who is he?"

"Anakin, or Ani, as he was referred to affectionately by a small number of people, is my padawan learner. Or, rather, was, up until his disappearance a fortnight ago." He paused, his eyes turning the grey they became whenever he was fighting the urge to cry.

"How did he disappear?" she asked, prompting him.

He rubbed his face wearily and shook his head. "I… I don't know. I wasn't there," he admitted. "It was a mission. Anakin was supposed to be protecting Padmé… I was off-planet, investigating."

Satine smiled. "Sound familiar?"

A hint of a smile flashed across his face, immediately followed by a crippling sadness. "I suppose… but he never came back. He ran away."

"Ran away? But why?"

He ran a tired hand through his hair. "That… that is what I don't know. We… that is, Padmé and I, were trying to find that out when the news came that he… he… he was…"

Satine hurriedly took her arm from around Padmé, who had fallen asleep, and moved to sit beside him. "Obi, it's going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay," she said, putting her arms around him. He gave a strangled sob and she gulped. "Okay, so maybe it won't."

Obi-Wan whimpered pitifully, clinging to her. Satine sighed. She had never been one for comforting; it just wasn't in her disposition. And when people literally clung to her for comfort, it made her… uncomfortable.

For a while she sat there, never knowing that they were embarking on a journey that would forever change their lives, and the entire fate of the galaxy.

* * *

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	2. Chapter One: The Master

Satine woke to the sound of an alarm going off. Across the room Padmé's head popped up, her dark hair tumbling loose over her shoulders. "What's that?"

Satine yawned, pulling on her robe. "I don't know, but I'm sure Obi will be able to figure it out."

Sure enough, just as she stepped out in the hallway, Obi-Wan stumbled past, cursing under his breath. His normally neat hair was disheveled, giving him an adorably sleepy look. She smiled, turning to go back to bed. He would take care of things.

The three of them were on their way home after yet another set of peace talks. Over the past three years, after Anakins death, they had been almost inseparable.

It hadn't been even a week after that day in the apartment that Obi-Wan had been deployed. But the grief over is apprentice's death had proved to be too much. Before a fortnight was even up, he was shipped back to coruscant in critical condition after collapsing on the front lines due to lack of eat, sleep and acute dehydration.

After his recovery, the Jedi Council had decided to give him a less stressful mission: escorting the Senator to and helping her negotiate the release of some prisoners the Separatists were holding hostage. After the success of the mission, he had been sent on more of the same sort.

Padmé, in her own right, had become well known for her success in negotiations. As a pair, the two were highly effective.

It hadn't been until a year later that Satine had joined them on one of their peace talks. With her providing a neutral front, they had been even more persuasive.

Upon their return, they were offered the titles of the official Ambassadors of the Republic, and Official Arbiter. They had graciously accepted, and had been together ever since.

After a while, she had made the official move to Padmé's penthouse, since she was rarely at her own apartment. Obi-Wan also spent most of his time there, forsaking his lonely quarters in the Temple for one of Padmé's guest bedrooms many a night, especially now that he was a Master.

Then, there was her and Obi-Wan.

He had clung to her for awhile, paranoid that she was going to leave like Anakin had. Once, when she had made an emergency run to the store, he had come to her apartment to find her gone.

He'd panicked.

When she returned about ten minutes later, her apartment was overrun with security, searching for any clues to her disappearance. Their reunion had been one of many tears on his part, and many promises of always letting him know her whereabouts on hers.

She still wasn't sure what to make of their relationship. Of course, she loved him, and he occasionally hinted at the fact that he still harbored affection for her, but neither of them ever made a move on it. On Satine's side, it was mainly for Padmé's sake. Even now, any mention of a relationship made her friend tear up. Satine could only imagine what her reaction would be if her two best friends decided to become something more.

So, the three friends lived in harmony, between Padmé's work in the Senate, Obi-Wan's time on the Council, and her monthly visits to Mandalore.

And now they were on their way between peace talks. The one they had left just the day before had been extremely stressful, and the next promising to be even more so.

All she wanted to do was sleep.

"Satine! Padmé!"

Obviously, she wasn't going to get her wish.

Just as she got out of bed, she was thrown into the wall by a sudden shift of gravity. Throwing on her robe, she managed to stumble out of the bedroom and into the cockpit.

Alarms were going off and lights were flashing everywhere. The ship itself was spinning out of control, barreling through the atmosphere of a planet she did not know the name of.

Obi-Wan was in the pilot's seat, wrestling with the controls. Beads of perspiration had formed on his forehead and his lips were set in a thin line.

"What's wrong?" Satine asked, trying to mask the fear in her voice.

"We've been shot down," Obi-Wan explained in a grim voice. "I need you and Padme to get all of your necessary things and take them to the cargo hold. In one minute, the ramp will open, and I want you to jump. You have to go fast, because in less than three minutes all the controls will lock up and there'll be no way to get out then. As soon as you hit the ground, I want you to run in the opposite direction as far as you can; don't look back. You understand? Now go."

Padme, who had followed her into the cockpit, immediately turned to follow his instructions, but Satine hesitated. "Obi, do you want me to get your stuff?"

For the first time since she had entered the cockpit, he looked back at her. His blue, almost grey eyes were pained, but he smiled bravely. "There's no need. I'm not coming."

Satine's eyes widened, filling with tears. "Obi, no…"

"I have to make sure this thing is far enough away to keep you from getting hurt in the explosion." Then, for the first time since that awful day he'd left her on Mandalore, he pressed his lips to hers for a toe tingling kiss. When he drew back, he gave her a forced smile before taking his place at the controls again. "If you had said the word, I would have left the order."

Suddenly, Padmé was there beside her, and the next moment she was being dragged to the hold, and the moment after that they were airborne, wrapped in blankets to help protect them from their fall.

As soon as they hit their ground, somewhere in the middle of a forest, they were untangling themselves and running. They hadn't gone far when there was an explosion that threw them both to the ground.

After the shock was over, Padmé sighed in relief as she sat back on her heels. "Well, another happy landing, isn't it team?" She said, breathing hard from the run. She glanced over at Satine, who was looking back in the direction of the explosion, tears running down her cheeks. "Satine, what's wrong. It's just a ship, we can get another one. Isn't that right, Obi… Wan." She paused, looking around "Where'd he run off to?"

Satine gave a long, shuddering sob, her eyes still fixed in the direction of the wreckage. "He… he…"

Padmé's throat constricted as she scrambled to her feet. "No… he didn't… he couldn't have… Obi-Wan!" She yelled, beginning to run back in the direction they had come.

She hadn't gone five feet when someone collided with her, knocking her to the ground. She looked up, half hoping to see Obi-Wan's blue-gray eyes, but instead being met with hard hazel orbs.

"Don't move, don't try to run," the human male said, snapping binders on her wrists. Helping her up, he led her over to where another man was doing likewise to Satine.

Both of them were dressed in dark robes made out of a rich looking material and carried a sort of staff. Some type of guards, perhaps?

Her question was soon answered. After a short walk they were led into a large palace, settled in the bottom of a valley. Elegant mansions and farms were scattered across the surrounding hills, the countryside lush.

Inside the palace, they went down a single corridor and into a large room beyond it. The room was lavishly decorated in tones of red and black. On the far side, a raised platform was situated, with several steps leading up to it. And on said platform was what looked to be a miniature fort, standing at least six feet tall, made of… pillows?

Padmé stared at it in awe.

Her captor cleared his throat. "We have the prisoners, mas…"

Before he had a chance to finish speaking, the whole pillow fort was blown to bits by another pillow, this one log shaped. While Padmé was still trying to register this, a hooded figure emerged from beside the platform and walked over to the remains of the fort.

He, or at least she thought it was a he, contemplated the pile of pillows, circling it and muttering something under his breath. Then, he crouched down beside it, tracing lines on the floor. Padmé and Satine exchanged glances. Who was this madman?

As they watched, he inspected all the remaining pillows and stroked his chin thoughtfully, seemingly completely oblivious to their presence. Finally, he seemed satisfied, and, jumping to his feet, yelled in an exultant voice, "VICTORY!", causing everyone to start. Then, in a deeper voice to himself, "and he brings down the enemy fort. Everyone cheers as our Hero With No Fear once again saves the day. Thank you, thank you, everyone, it was nothing." He began bowing to an imaginary audience before looking down at the scattered pillows and mumbling, "I probably should get someone to pick those up."

Padmé's captor cleared his throat again. The man spun around, his lips parted. They were the only feature she could see, the rest of his face shadowed by his hood.

He was tall, towering over Padme, and even under his dark robes she could tell he was well built. His presence, which had earlier resembled something of a preteen, now seem to emanate power.

His hood turned in the direction of Satine and his mouth turned down. "Where is the male?" Even his voice was different from earlier. It was something akin to velvet, deep and rich, barely hiding his displeasure.

The guard looked confused. "Master? You said to get the two prisoners, and we did…"

"There was supposed to be a man and a woman, not two women!"

"Master, I promise you, there were only these two. We saw them jump, there were no others."

The mans jaw set as he strode over to Satine. "Was there someone else with you?"

She didn't answer, glaring at him defiantly. Padmé felt her heart swell in pride. No matter what, her friend would never give away anything. She was a Mandaorian, and Mandalorians never betrayed their friends.

That was the thing about them. They never betrayed. Obi-Wan could resist any mind-probe or mind reader in the galaxy, and Satine was nearly just as good, thanks to her heritage. Between those two, no one could get a single drop of information.

Suddenly, Padmé realized the 'hooded one' had turned to her.

Uh-Oh.

"Since it seems your friend refuses to give me any information," he said, coming over to her. "Maybe you will be more willing. Now tell me, was there a human male with you?"

She swallowed. "No."

"Are you lying to me?"

She licked her lips nervously. "No."

"Oh, come now, my pet. There is no need to lie to me," he said softly, his warm tone seeming to envelope her.

Wait.

"What did you call me?"

A smile slid across his lips as he traced her jawline with gloved fingers. She shuddered. "What is it, my pet? Why do you tremble?" He asked, tenderly tracing the curve of her lips.

Padmé just stood there and stared up into the black void where his eyes were hidden. I wonder what color they are.

"You want to tell me, don't you, my pet?" He asked, his voice caressing her as his fingers stroked her cheek. His other arm slipped around her waist and pulling her flush to him and taking off the binders. She gasped softly at the contact. "Tell me," he commanded, his whisper warm in her ear.

Her legs seemed to go to jelly and she held on to him to steady herself. Force, it had been so long since she had been held by a man. "I… I can't."

"And why not, my pet?" He whispered, stroking her hair gently.

Padmé felt her resolve waver, then fall. "There was another. He… he didn't make it out in time." He stiffened and she shuddered as she remembered Obi-Wan's actions. "He made sure the ship was far enough away from us so we wouldn't be hurt in the blast. He died to save us."

Behind her, Satine started crying softly and the 'hooded one' glanced over at her, a confused frown on his lips. "Take the ladies to get cleaned up and rest. They are likely fatigued from their… experience." He turned to Padmé, touching her cheek one more time as he pulled away. "I will see you at dinner, my pet."

* * *

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	3. Chapter Two: His Pet

Padmé could get used to this.

As a queen, she thought she knew what luxury was.

Apparently, she was wrong.

Over the past three hours she had been treated to a soak in a bubble bath with more jets than she thought possible, a massage that had her as loose as a rubber band, a professional mani/pedi, complimentary waxing, and a shampoo that left her hair shining in glorious curls across her shoulders. She had asked if she could straighten it and pull it up, but her stylist had been adamant.

The Master had been very clear; he wanted her hair down.

After all, she was his pet.

A delicious shiver ran down her back at the memory. How was it possible for a complete stranger to make such an impression on her?

The memory of his hand on her waist came back to her, making her cheeks heat. She had no idea why she was reacting this way. For the past three years she had never even had the desire to look at a man, much less think they were attractive. Yet now, a perfect stranger was managing to stir up the woman in her.

"What are you thinking about?" Satine asked, blonde hair smoothed back in a more conservative bun. "Your cheeks are red."

Padmé balked. "Nothing."

Satine slanted a glance at her. "You said that too fast," she chided, blue eyes narrowed. "This wouldn't be about the Master, would it?" She asked, calling him by the name his servants did.

"No."

"Padmé, there's nothing wrong with finding a man attractive," she said softly. "Though this is an unfortunate time and choice of person."

"Attractive? Why… why would you think I find a man I've never even met attractive?" Padmé protested. "I don't even know what he looks like!"

She raised her eyebrows. "Your eyes do not always determine whether or not you find a man attractive. Besides, you probably find the disguise… mysterious and intriguing. Something different from your day to day acquaintances."

Padmé huffed. "What would you even know? Have you even ever been attracted to a guy?"

Her friends face fell. "Yes, once."

"Really? Who?"

"It doesn't matter." Satine's voice grew smaller. "He's dead now."

"Oh." It was all she could say. Satine already looked near tears, as she had at Obi's death, and Padmé didn't want to be the one to induce more over a former lover.

They had reached the dining hall, an intricate affair with the same red and black tones as most of the palace. A long, polished table that probably could sit nearly a hundred people stretched across the room. Formal high backed chairs were on either side of it, and only the first three places were set.

The Master had not yet arrived, but the servants instructed them to sit while they waited. It wasn't until five minutes later that the big door swept open again, and he strode in, fixing his glove.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting. I was… preoccupied," he said, taking his seat. His hood turned toward Padmé, and a relaxed smile crossed his face. "You look beautiful, my pet."

Padmé fought the urge to blush. "You were very kind to provide me with such… lavish… amenities."

He smirked. "Believe me I am doing this for entirely selfish reasons."

She dropped her eyes to her plate. "Thank you, Master."

A soft sound, a mix between a growl and a groan, startled her. "I like it when you say that, my pet," he whispered huskily, a feral smile on his lips as he leaned closer so only she could hear. "Though I think I'll like it even more when you're screaming it."

Was it just her or was it getting hot in here?

She glanced across the table to see Satine sampling her wine, pretending she didn't see them. Padmé followed suit, taking a sip of her own.

The fruity taste that met her tongue was unlike any other wine she had ever tasted. Like everything here, it was pure perfection, delighting all her senses. "What… what kind of wine is this? It's absolutely delectable."

"Only the best for you. It was grown in our own vineyard, not far off from here." He sat back in his chair, tasting his own. "It is good, but I have a feeling it would taste infinitely better on your lips."

Padmé blushed to the roots of her hair and Satine nearly choked on her wine. Setting the glass down on the table in front of her, the Duchess folded her hands primly on her lap. "I'm afraid I don't know what to call you."

His lips twitched in an amused smile as his focus shifted. "You could simply follow your friends example."

"I'd prefer not to, for the short time I remain here." She lifted her chin. "Is there anywhere nearby where I might acquire a ship? I do not wish to impose any longer than necessary."

Padmé could almost feel his amusement. "There is one who makes twice yearly trips to another planet where you may gain transportation, if you do not wish to rely on my good graces. He will be leaving in two moons, and you may go with him if you choose."

Satine blinked. "Is there any way I may persuade him to leave earlier? I have rather urgent business I need to see to."

"For the right price, I'm sure he'd take you anywhere. However," he paused to take another sip of his wine. "Your republican credits will be of no use here. Everything you trade must be in goods, which you have none of."

She pursed her lips, but pressed on. "Is there a comm unit I may use then? I can have one of my pilots come and retrieve us."

He leaned forward, tenting his hands on the table. "There is no way to communicate off planet. The atmosphere prohibits any sort of long range transmissions."

Satine's shoulders rounded with disappointment. "In the meantime, would it be possible to see where our ship crashed? I… I would like to see if anything of value was spared."

"In a few days I will have my guards escort you to the site." He motioned to the waiters, who finally set their food in front of them. "Until then, I hope you will enjoy your… vacation, if you will."

As soon as Padmé tasted her meal, she knew that would be no problem.

* * *

Satine stared listlessly up at the ceiling, numb with grief. Obi… her obi… was dead, and she had never even had the chance to tell him how she felt.

No, that was wrong. She had had the chance, several times over. Yet she had put it off, making excuses.

Now she would never be able to see him again.

Fleetingly, she wondered if this was how Padmé had felt when Anakin died. As though a piece of her very soul had been taken out, leaving a hollow gap that threatened to never heal.

She had loved him ever since the day he stood before her in the Sundari palace. Every day since, she had loved him. Silently, patiently, with a passion that never died.

Yet, she had never told him. Not all those years ago when he had boarded the ship to Coruscant beside his master, and not a few hours ago when he had given up his life to save hers.

Silent tears coursed down her face. He had given her his everything, and what had she ever done for him?

Nothing.

Though he had not known it, he had been the only one. Her first and her last. Her everything.

Her Obi.

* * *

Padmé was lonely. Satine had locked herself in her quarters for the night, and the servants were too in awe of her to have intelligent conversation.

Apparently, being the Master's pet was a position of high esteem.

She did not understand it. Did not understand him. His character she had yet to determine.

At first, before he had known she was there, he had been like an overgrown boy. Then, when he noticed Obi-Wan wasn't with them (how he knew that he was supposed to be was beyond her), he had almost seemed furious. At dinner, he had been seductive with her, and amused at Satine's frustration. They had just been finishing when one of his guards had come to him and told him something, and he had suddenly seemed agitated.

And he called her his pet.

Did he see her as that? A kitten to pet and praise?

What did a pet do? Be a sugar baby for him to lavish gifts upon?

She looked down at the silver cuffs around her wrists, just one set of many she had been given. Her room had been already filled with fine jewelry and a wardrobe that could rival even her own.

That had been one of the things that had puzzled her most. There were literally dozens of dresses, all her exact size. Too many to have been made in the few hours she had been here.

It was amazing how close the fashion mirrored her own Nubian clothes. Light and airy, they reminded her especially of her lake house wardrobe.

Not that anyone here would have known.

She barely remembered it herself. After Anakin died, she could never bring herself to go back. It had almost seemed… sacred to him. Memories of them were everywhere. Their first kiss on the balcony, the picnic in the field, their final conversation in front of the fireplace… it had been too much. So, for the past three years, it had sat locked up, untouched.

The hole in her heart opened again, the familiar ache filling her. This time, though, it was accompanied by a new guilt.

For three years she had remained faithful to his memory. She had turned a blind eye to all men, not once even entertaining the thought of being with someone else. She wanted him to be her last. Her last kiss, her last laugh, her last tear, her last attraction, her last love.

And yet, in a matter of minutes, she had let a man overcome her senses. She had pushed Anakin completely out of her mind in favor of a complete stranger whose face she hadn't even seen. She had blushed at his attention, trembled at his touch, melted at his cheap pet name.

How could she be so shallow, to find pleasure in being held by someone whose very name was a mystery to her?

Satine's words came back to her, but she shook them away. Unlike her, Padmé was a firm believer that attraction to a stranger was wrong. It was the road of heartbreak.

Before Anakin, she had only had one relationship, with a fellow classmate when they were twelve. It was little more than a mutual crush, a whirlwind middle school romance. By the time they were separated by different career choices, any affection they had felt for each other had dwindled to nothing more than an amiable friendship.

She had not known the meaning of love and attraction until she had met Anakin again. It had been vastly different from what she had felt with Palo.

She had felt alive.

For the brief time he had been with her, he had dominated her thoughts, demanding her attention like a greedy child. After he was gone, her grief had consumed her, throwing her into a perpetual cycle of 'what if's and 'if only's. Never before and never afterwards had anything so completely taken over her.

Until today.

The moment he had taken her into his arms, her mind had been focused on nothing else. Every trace of Anakin had fled, leaving only the tall stranger with the sexy voice.

Since then, though, she found herself trying to compare them. Was Anakin as tall as he was? As solid? She wondered, idly, if his eyes were the same color that Anakin's had been.

She frowned as she tried to remember the exact shade of his eyes. She remembered them being blue, but what type, exactly? Baby blue? Nearly grey, like Obi-Wan's? The color of the ocean, like Satine's?

Her frustration grew as she tried to remember even some of the more simple details of him. What color had his hair been? How tall was he? Did he have freckles, or was he fair skinned?

She had only one holo of him, taken at the celebration, with his new haircut and Jedi robes. All of his other pictures, from his time at the temple, had been locked up with his other records in the Temple Archives. She had wanted copies of them, but the council had refused to grant her or Obi-Wan access.

Now all she had was a fading memory of him walking out of her life for the last time.

* * *

 **Thank you, everyone for continuing to support this story! Hopefully, I'll be updating pretty regularly (once or twice a week) until I'm able to set a schedule.**

 **Shoutout to Kitten2000, SpotSylvania, Bonhamrules, frire, JediGaladriel, MistyCharming, MumsieDo, Gunz4u2c, masterbroly, chimpette, jmood, Varete, and DarthArsene Wenger for following and favoriting! You guys make my day!**

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 **Remember, reviews, favorites and follows are carrots for my plot bunny!**

 **Also, any suggestions on what the Ehren (the natives of the planet) should look like?**


	4. Chapter Three: The Duchess

She had found the gardens.

The first rays of sunshine were just penetrating the glass roof when she stepped into the indoor greenhouse.

It was large, with an assortment of trees and moss covered rocks lining the stone pathways. The sound of gushing water drew her deeper into the forest like atmosphere, until at last she rounded the corner to see a waterfall.

Satine blinked. If she wasn't careful, she could easily forget she was in the middle of a palace instead of in an exotic jungle.

Absently, she wondered if this was what the Room of a Thousand Fountains was like. Obi-Wan had always described it as such, with the magnificent waterfall being the dominating element.

Sitting down by the edge of the pool that was formed at the base, Satine dipped her feet in the water, reveling in the feeling of the cool liquid around her toes.

"Duchess. I should have expected you to be here."

She didn't even look up. "So you know who I am."

He came and sat down beside her, crossing his legs meditation style. "Since this morning. I apologize for not recognizing you earlier. I'm afraid I've been very out of touch."

"I take no offense. I fear that very few people outside of the political circle recognize me."

"May I ask you a question?" He asked after a moment of silence, fiddling with the edge of his robe.

"You may, though whether or not I choose to answer is at my own will."

"The man who was with you… he was a Jedi, correct?"

She looked at him in surprise. "Yes, he was. How…?"

He hesitated. "Before the crash, he tried to make contact with us. I recognized his voice."

"You knew Obi?"

A sad, almost regretful smile crossed his face. "We crossed paths a few times several years ago. He was a great man."

She swallowed as unshed tears clogged her throat. "He was."

"I don't think I've ever met someone as devoted to anything as he was to the Jedi." He chuckled softly. "It could be annoying at times, but I admired him for it."

"It was impossible not to," she agreed. "Even if you might hate him for it."

He was silent for a moment, and she could feel his eyes on her. "You knew him well, then?"

"I… he was sent to me when I was younger, and we became… close." She smiled at the memory. "We didn't see each other for, oh, almost twelve years, when I ran across him at Padmé's apartment after his padawan's death. We've been friends ever since."

"You knew his apprentice?"

"No, I never met him," she confessed. "It's funny, I don't even have the slightest clue what he even looked like. The only holo I've ever seen of him was when he was ten. All the others were locked up after his death. Did you know him?"

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Yes, I saw him a couple times."

She turned to him, interested. "What was he like? Obi never wanted to talk about him, and Padmé always broke down in tears whenever I mentioned him."

"He was a boy. Mischievous, arrogant, passionate, reckless. Not exactly the ideal Jedi." He smiled. "It seemed like every few minutes Ma… Master Kenobi was lecturing him on something."

She smiled. "That sounds right."

His head cocked to the side. "Wait, what's your name again?"

"Kryze, Satine Kryze of Kalevala," she replied, confused at his sudden change of subject. "And yours?"

"Ah, that would be right." He laughed. "I should have guessed you were like that."

She gave him a curious look. "Like what?"

He smirked. "Master… Kenobi's lover."

Heat rose in her cheeks. "Why would you say that?"

"He always had a thing for girls with blonde hair and blue eyes. Especially ones whose names started with the s sound."

"Really?" A bit of irritation started to mix in with the curiosity.

"Yep. Let me see, there was his first girl, Cerasi, when he was about fourteen, but she died. Then there was Siri, who he was on and off with since they were about seventeen. I remember a girl named Sadira, though it turned out her hair was bleached. There were a few others, too, but I can't recall them all from the top of my head. He was quite the ladies man."

"Indeed," Satine muttered darkly as she thought about how many blondes there were in the galaxy with names that started with the letter s.

"So you guys were like that?"

She flushed, shaking her head. "No." The skepticism and disbelief seem to radiate off of him and she groaned. "We were teenagers, loaded with hormones, left alone for a year. What did you expect us to do?"

"Really? You guys actually did the dirty?" For some reason he seemed surprised.

She wrinkled her brow. "What were you expecting?"

"A kiss, maybe. I mean, Mas… Obi-Wan may have flirted with every blonde he saw, but he never took them to bed. He always seemed too… he wasn't like that." The corners of his lips turned up in an amused smile. "You thought I was saying he slept with all those women?"

Her cheeks grew redder as she looked back down. Wrinkles were starting to form on her toes, so she pulled her feet out of the water and rested them on the stone floor as she muttered, "no."

He laughed. He actually threw back his head and laughed. "You don't have much trust in your boyfriend, do you?"

"No… I mean, yes, but he's not my…"

"Fine, then, lover." He stood, the grin still firmly fixed on his face as he offered her a hand. "Breakfast will be ready soon. It was good speaking to you, Duchess."

She nodded, her cheeks still burning. "Good day."

* * *

Padmé groaned as she forced herself out of bed. The maid had come in ten minutes ago to tell her that breakfast would be ready within a half hour, and she still hadn't had the will to get up.

It was ridiculous. Before, she had never had a problem with waking up. But then again, her mattress on Coruscant was nowhere near as soft and welcoming as the one that had been in the room the Master had provided for her.

The room in itself was remarkable. With it's color scheme of pale pinks, yellows, blues and tans, it reminded her of the Lake House. Stone floors also added to the effect, and homesickness mingled with the happiness of being in a place that felt familiar.

It was strange, though. First the wardrobe, and now this. It was as if the Master had anticipated her coming, and planned accordingly, days, weeks, maybe even months ahead. It wasn't possible for all this to be arranged so quickly.

Was it?

"Milady?"

Padmé turned to see a young girl standing in the doorway. Like all of the servants here (or slaves, she wasn't sure which), she was an Ehren, the natives of the planet.

So far, the only ones who weren't Ehren was the Master and his two bodyguards.

The girl, like all the other female Ehren Padmé had seen, was slim and elegant, with long, silvery white hair and silver skin. The men were usually more muscular, with darker, short hair and darker, almost grey skin.

She returned the smile. "Yes?"

"Master thought Milady might require some assistance."

Padmé glanced at the mirror to see her brown hair in a tangled mass. Hadn't it been smooth when she went to bed? "Yes, thank you. I would appreciate some help…"

"Acca, Milady."

"Can you pick a dress for me, Acca? I can't choose," Padmé confessed, looking at her walk in closet. Everything was so beautiful and new, there was no way she could make a choice.

The girl nodded, entering the miniature room. "Master say this was a favorite," she remarked, holding one out.

The dress was a sunny yellow, reminding Padmé of the dress she had been wearing during her and Anakin's picnic. Pushing away the bittersweet memory, she took it from the girl. "I think this will be fine."

* * *

The Master had not arrived for breakfast, or lunch. One of the guards came to inform her that he was conducting business elsewhere and would most likely not arrive back before dark. However, would she mind waiting up for him in the library…?

So, after dinner came and went and Padmé could no longer see out of her window, she went to the room.

It seemed to her that he had done nothing on a small scale. The library was massive, with floor to ceiling bookshelves built in a circle. In the center was a giant rug, begging for someone to curl up and read a book on it. This was where she found Satine, her head bent over an ancient volume that was probably six times as thick as the romance novel Padmé had selected.

Looking up, Satine closed her book and set it aside. "Padmé, what are you doing here?"

Padmé held up In Bed with the Mandalorian sheepishly. "Just some light reading."

Satine tilted her head to read the book title before pursing her lips. "I read it before. I didn't really enjoy it, because their perspective of a Mandalorian man isn't very correct. Otherwise, it was very…" she coughed, "erm, descriptive. You'll find Katus makes a very passionate lover."

"Don't they all?" Padme teased. "With their impossibly broad shoulders, towering stature, chiseled face, deep voice, and rippling muscles?"

The older woman laughed. "So very accurate, though not all women want that."

Padmé stretched out on the rug. "What would your ideal lover look like?"

She hesitated. "You first."

Padmé didn't even have to think about that one. "Well, he would be tall, with golden hair and blue eyes. Broad shouldered, rippling muscles," she laughed. "But I don't want a chiseled face. All I want is a button nose, a dimpled chin, and plump lips." She smiled. "Now your turn."

"Unlike you, Miss Cliché, I would want my love to be of a more solid built nature. Doesn't have to be very tall, but wit is a must. A modest amount of sarcasm." She smiled softly. "As to facial appearance, I can't say I have an exact look I would favor above any other."

Why did Padmé get the feeling her friend was lying? "What is it like?"

"What is what like?"

"Being in love."

Satine's cheeks grew pink. "You were in love with Anakin, you should know."

Padmé felt her throat tighten. "Yes, I know the feeling. But… what is the experience like? No running from your feelings, no secrets, just you and the person you love."

"It's… never what you expect," she said slowly. "Yet, in a way… it is. It's hard to explain…"

"Fine. What's being with a guy like, then? I don't… I've never been…" Padmé flushed. "You know…"

The older woman's cheeks blazed. "Who says I've ever been with one?"

"Obi-Wan. Remember that one day when we were talking about Nubian chastity laws and he teased you about never being able to keep them because you can't change the past?"

Satine groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "It was a long time ago…"

Padmé sat up straighter. "Was it with the guy you were talking about yesterday? The one who died?"

"Yes."

"So?"

"So what?"

It was obvious Satine wasn't going to make this easier on her. "So… what was it like?"

A tomato couldn't have been more red than Satine's face at the moment. "I don't know what you want me to tell you. I told you, it was a long time ago. I was what, seventeen? Eighteen? I barely even remember."

"Did it hurt a lot?"

Satine gave her a look. "Why the sudden curiosity?"

"It's not sudden. You're just the first woman that I've had a chance to talk to about it." She grimaced. "Giving the exception of my sister, but that's just disgusting."

"What about all those handmaidens you had?" Satine asked, carefully adjusting her skirt as she turned over. "Surely one of them was willing to share the sordid details of their extracurricular activities?"

"Technically, they're not supposed to have 'extracurricular activities' of that sort," Padmé pointed out. "Every Nubian woman is supposed to remain pure until her wedding. And handmaidens must be unmarried, with their duty to me and the crown first. So, even if they had indulged, I would be the last person they would want to tell."

Satine played with one of the tassels on her robe. "Do you wish to remain chaste?"

Padmé groaned, falling back onto the soft carpet. "I don't know. Right now, yes."

"But?"

"That's right now, when there's no one to tempt me."

A look of understanding crossed Satine's face. "I know how that feels. Before I met… him… I thought I would be fine being a virgin my whole life. And since he died, I'm once again content with not engaging in amorous relations. But if another would come upon the scene that I should feel similarly for, I don't know."

Padmé smiled sadly. "Would you want to feel the same for someone else?"

"No. What we had was sacred, and I… I promised him he was my only." Tears gathered in the blue eyes. "I don't want to break that promise. Even though he is dead, I don't want to tarnish his memory."

"Even though Anakin and I never got that far, I feel the same," Padmé confessed. "But now… I think that being so completely separated from the male species has not been the wisest action. The slightest touch of a man is enough to set me on fire. Or maybe… maybe I'm hitting that mid life period."

Satine barked out a laugh. "I hope not. I have yet to hit mine, and if you are already hitting yours, that doesn't speak well of the length of your life."

"Then what is it? I have been perfectly able to remain unattracted to and detached from every man I've met over the past three years. Why is everything changing now? And with a perfect stranger, whose name is as much of a mystery as his face?"

The older woman shrugged helplessly. "Whoever knows why we're attracted to those we don't even care for? Why we fall in love, if it almost always leads to heartbreak?"

"Words of wisdom. Listen to your friend, my pet," the Master said, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. Padmé sucked in a breath as he knelt beside her, tracing her jaw with the back of his gloved hand. "Or your heart will be broken."

* * *

 ** _So, Padmé and Satine got to have a really girly talk! I wonder how much the Master heard..._**

 ** _Thank you, MumsieDo, for your description of the Ehren! I loved it!_**

 ** _Now, to our new followers and favorite(r)s: the dark emperor, Dark Lady 52, MumsieDo, CLance5, MorningStar666, thank you, thank you, thank you!_**

 ** _MumsieDo: I would tell you, but then it would make no sense to keep writing this, would it?_**

 ** _MMM73181: hehehe. I think you will actually be very surprised, in a chapter. Or two. Or five. Or twenty. (I know, I'm evil)_**

 ** _Guest: Thank you for your long review! I'm glad you're enjoying my story. Don't worry, soon (or not so soon) everything will be revealed._**

 ** _Guest: thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! (No spoilers)_**

 ** _Hahaha, I'm cracking up over here because everyone seems to think 'The Master' is insane. Well, he is kind of crazy…_**

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(I just realized FanFiction has not been inserting my enters between pov changes. I'm so sorry, and will make sure to check it in the future!)


	5. Chapter Four: Blue Eyes

Satine sighed in relief as she let her feet slide into the cool water. After the encounter in the library a few nights ago, an air of tension had settled over the Master and his guests.

Padmé had been extremely embarrassed by thought that the Master might have overheard their conversation, and had since remained cold and aloof to him.

On his part, he had disappeared to force knows where for the past few days, only returning late in the evenings for dinner before leaving again. He ate a lot, watched Padmé from the shadow of his hood nearly as much, and talked very little, if at all. When he did find the need to speak, it was always to ask if they were comfortable, and if either of them needed anything.

Once, during their awkwardly silent meal, Satine had taken the initiative to ask him again about the wreck. He had remained evasive, assuring her that if anything could be salvaged, it would be returned to them immediately. As of yet, nothing had been forthcoming.

For her own part, she reasoned she had been getting along tolerably, what with the sleepless nights, unrelenting memories, bouts of inconquerable sadness and tears, and wistful what ifs. The ache of Obi-Wan's death had yet to diminish, even more keen by her lack of activity.

There was no choice but to be inactive. Almost any sort of leisurely activity was always open to them, but anything of productive nature was out of her reach. She had been given a datapad, but with no knowledge of the outside world, she could do little more than write down random arguments and speeches. The library was of great comfort, providing her with a nearly endless amount of resources current up to the past four months.

It would, most likely, be her only solace for the next two months she would have to stay here.

Wistfully, she stared at the water, wanting nothing more than to just sink into the water and wash away all the stress. Maybe one night she would go skinny dipping, after everyone was asleep.

"Here for your morning soak, I presume?"

She stared down at the water, choosing to ignore his question. "I still don't know your name."

She heard a soft chuckle, then the soft sound of cloth being rolled up. "My name is of no importance to you."

Satine looked over at him, and did a double take. Where she had expected the usual hood, there was nothing but sun kissed skin and the bluest eyes she had ever seen this side of a holodrama. "Wha…"

He laughed, his surprisingly young face filled with mirth. "What, are you surprised?"

"I… I expected you to be wearing your hood," she explained slowly, taking the time to examine his face and grimacing when her eye caught the rather nasty looking scar across his right eye and the smaller one on the same cheek. "How did you get those?"

He chuckled, running a hand through dark blonde hair. "A fight, few months back." When she didn't respond, he frowned self consciously. "Do they look that bad?"

She paused, scrutinizing him carefully for a moment. Then, she shook her head. "Actually, they don't. Painful, perhaps, but not in a grotesque way."

He groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I knew it. She'd never accept me this way," he muttered bitterly. "Worthless. You should have known…"

Had he forgotten about her? "Who?"

Sapphire eyes met hers again as he looked up, an unknown emotion hovering in them. Then, the smile was back, and any trace of the formerly self conscious boy was gone as he laughed. "I was talking about a lady who wanted to hire me as an actor in her theatre awhile back. She said my 'flawless' face would have people coming from miles around," he admitted ruefully. "I don't think she'd feel the same now."

If he was lying, Satine couldn't see it now. Her gut told her that he had been speaking about something else earlier, but his actions and words now were convincing. Usually, she was pretty good at sensing when someone was lying, and he showed none of the usual symptoms. Maybe he had been acting earlier.

"Do you think they will heal?" he asked curiously.

"How long have you had them?"

He tilted his head to the side. "Five years, maybe? Since I first came here."

She laughed. "Then no, I don't think they will be going anywhere anytime soon."

His laugh mingled with hers, seeming to fill the room. "I suppose I must continue to wear my hood, then," he said after a moment, winking at her. "I don't think the rest of the world is ready to see my face yet."

"Ah, so that's why you wear it. I wondered," she admitted. "They're not that bad, though. You're still rather handsome, regardless."

"That's because you're different from the others," he replied. "You've learned not to judge by appearances, because they don't dictate who the person is."

She smiled. "All too true, though it would be much easier if they were."

He laughed again, standing and brushing his pants off. "Are you going in?"

"The water? No."

"Why not? I know you want to."

She looked down at the cool liquid wistfully. "You're right, I do. It's been awhile since I've gone swimming. At least since the last time we were on Naboo, and that was, what, eight months?"

"Go ahead then."

"No, I'm not dressed for it…" she protested.

If he had heard her, he didn't give any indication. Running past her, he did a cannonball into the deep water, still fully clothed.

Satine gasped as a wave of water hit her, effectively soaking her to the skin. A few feet out, the Master resurfaced, grinning as he doggy paddled toward her. "Well, you might as well get in now. You're already wet, anyway."

She glared at him for a moment, before reluctantly slipping into the water. "For one minute."

His grin widened as he rolled over onto his back, somehow fluid even in his bulky robes. "So, Padmé doesn't know about you and Obi-Wan's little love affair?"

She groaned. "How much did you hear that night?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"No, she didn't. Obi-Wan never brought up the past, so neither did I." She closed her eyes, sinking further into the water. "Even if he had, I wouldn't have told her. It was already too late for us, and she was still grieving over Anakin. Still is, in some ways, if we're being honest."

"Why? I know that he died, about a year after I came here, but why would she be grieving over him?"

"Before his death, Anakin was assigned as Padmé's bodyguard. According to my knowledge, they grew close, but he disappeared. Why, we don't know. Two weeks later, as you probably know, he was killed."

"You have no idea of his motives for disappearing?"

She shrugged. "According to Obi-Wan, none. He and Padmé were having dinner one night, and they went their separate ways to go to bed. The next morning, he was gone."

"How… peculiar," the Master commented. "And she still grieves?"

"Yes. Though it is not nearly as bad as it was before." She stretched, feeling the heaviness of her wet clothes. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go change into dry clothes if I have any intention on getting to breakfast on time."

A serious look crossed his face. "Duchess?"

She paused, wringing out her hair. "Yes?"

"If you would refrain from informing anyone of my… revealing… I would be grateful." He bit his lip. "I have my reasons for being here, away from proper society. I readily admit that something happened that caused me to be considered an outcast before I left, and that quite a few people have not let go of the past yet. I fear the Senator may be one of them, and though the story was distorted, she may not yet be ready to forgive me."

Satine nodded slowly. "I understand. I will leave it up to your discretion to choose if and when you will reveal yourself to her. Though," she hesitated, "if I may offer a suggestion, I would not dally with her affections without the thought of an eventual reveal in mind. Her immunity to masculine charms is very low right now, and I would not want to see her heartbroken again."

"I will tell her," he promised. "Eventually."

* * *

Once again, Acca came to help Padmé dress and do her hair.

"Chantay say we have dinner tonight," she said softly, referring to the cook and head of the servants grapevine. "Much Ehren come to see Master's Ami. Much favle for many clor."

Padmé looked back at the girl, trying to decipher her broken Basic. "Favle? Clor?"

"Favle you call… selle… selebr…"

"Celebration?"

"Yes, Ami," she replied, using the title the servants had bestowed on her. "A clor is one light, one dark. You be here almost seven clor."

Had it only been seven days? It seemed like longer. "I understand."

"Chantay say Master have new Shari for Ami," the girl said, and Padmé recognized the word for dress from the fitting a couple days before. "Chantay say it be very beautiful. Very bright."

Padmé glanced back at the girl's standard dress of gray and green, signalling her to be unmarried. The older, married Ehren usually dressed in browns, greens, and blacks.

Acca continued softly. "Master like Ami much. Trade much shari for Ami. Much shari for many clor."

"Would you like to try on one of my shari, Acca?" Padmé asked.

The girls pitch black eyes widened. "Oh, no, Ami. Master say no try Ami shari. Much pain."

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

Acca shook her head again. "Master know everything. Master see everything. Master hear everything."

Padmé raised a dubious eyebrow. "Really?"

The girl nodded emphatically. "Acca one try Ami scent. Master hurt Acca bad. Acca hurt five clor. Acca no try Ami things."

She could see the true fear in the Ehren's eyes, and it made her wonder. Was the Master so cruel as to hurt a helpless girl because she tried on some perfume? What sort of man was he, really? Was his gentle attentions to her all an act? "How did he hurt you?"

"Master make Acca hit wall. Master tell Acca no try Ami things or Master hurt Acca more bad."

Padmé shuddered. "I won't make you, then. We wouldn't want Master to hurt you, now would we?"

The girl shook her head fervently. "Master no hurt Acca. Master say no hurt if Acca no touch Ami things."

"Good." Turning back to face the mirror, she scrutinized her reflection. "Is he usually violent?"

Acca blinked cluelessly, and Padmé rephrased her question. "Does he hurt a lot of people, I mean."

"Oh, no, Ami. Master be very kind. Much hurt before Master come. Master make Ehren good place. Before, no food, no water for Ehren. Ehren hurt Ehren much. Much death." Her eyes filled. "Acca family die. Acca alone. Master take Acca home, let Acca use blanket. Teach Acca much Basic. Tell Acca about Ami. Acca help Master prepare for Ami. Master like Ami much."

"How long has he been here?"

Acca sighed in exasperation. "Too much question, Ami. Master be here many clor. Nearly five year." She gently brushed out the tangles in Padmé's hair. "Master build big home for Ami, trade many shari. Say Ami come soon. Many clor pass, but Master say Ami come. Then, Ami come. Master very happy."

Had he been preparing for her the whole time? Surely not. He was probably just waiting for the first unsuspecting woman to wander into his lair. "How did he know I was coming?"

"Master know everything. Master see everything. Master hear everything," was her simple answer.

"Have you ever seen his face, Acca?"

She shook her head. "No, Ami. When Master come, he fight much Ehren. Ehren hurt Master much bad. Master hide face. No Ehren see Master face."

Padmé's shoulders rounded in disappointment. "Why did he fight your people."

Acca seemed to struggle with the answer. "Few food. Much Ehren. Ehren hurt Ehren for food. Master come. Master fight Ehren for food, make much food. Teach Ehren to make much food. Ehren happy then, hurt Ehren no more." She smiled. "Ehren make Master. Master want make big home for Ami. Ehren help. Ehren happy Ami come to Master after many clor."

After the girl left, Padmé reflected over her words. The story seemed consistent. Five years before, the Master had come to Ehren, who was suffering from lack of food. He had fought with them to get the food, supposedly to plant what was left so there would be enough for all of them. The Ehren were grateful and made him their Master, and built him the palace.

That was where things got muddy.

According to Acca, he had built the palace for her, in anticipation of her coming. Why? Padmé didn't have the slightest idea. Maybe he had been expecting someone, but it most certainly was not her.

A Nubian folk tale she had heard years before came to her mind, the story of a man who had been so heartbroken that he had gone insane. Somehow, he had gotten it fixed into his demented mind that his lover was coming back, and had obsessed over her return for decades until he died. Even on his deathbed, he had been said to tell the healers that she was coming back.

Perhaps that was what was happening here, and she had just been unlucky enough to be mistaken for his long lost lover. After all, five years was a long time, and he had probably long forgotten what his true Ami looked like.

In a way, she pitied him. To go through your life, your mind continually focused on one person, had to be hard.

The breakfast bell rang, and Padmé hurried in the direction of the dining room. In the hall, she met Satine, who greeted her with a smile.

"Why is your hair wet?" She asked curiously. "Did you wash it or something?"

The older woman touched a damp lock and laughed. "Oh, yes. I meant to dry it, but I didn't have time."

Padmé smiled. "At least it's short, so it will dry quickly. Mine would take hours to air dry."

"I always wanted longer hair," Satine admitted. "But it is not the way of the Mandalorians. Yours is very beautiful."

"Now that it's combed and brushed. An hour ago it looked like some sort of animal's nest." She ran her fingers through the thick locks, reveling in the silky texture. "But then, that's all Acca's work, not mine. I honestly don't know what I would do without her."

As they turned the corner to the main hall, Padmé was surprised at the difference. There were Ehren everywhere. Girls rushed back and forth with linens, blankets, and towels in their arms; women scrubbed floors and dusted walls; men and boys changed the magnificent curtains and cleaned lights.

"I wonder what's going on," Satine said as they weaved in and out of the hubbub.

"Acca told me the Master is holding a big dinner tonight, so I expect they're preparing for it." Padmé smiled graciously as those who saw her paused in their work to bow.

"A dinner? What for?"

She rolled her eyes. "Apparently, it's for me. After breakfast we can go somewhere private and I'll tell you everything Acca told me."

They were at the dining room now, and were surprised to find the Master in his place upon entering.

Padmé took her customary seat at his right hand. "You have decided to join us today, I see."

He smiled. "Yes. My business elsewhere has been completed, for now." He nodded to the servants, and they placed their plates before them. "I hope you can forgive me for my absence, my pet."

She nodded graciously. "Of course. You have been most kind in providing me and my friend with everything we need for the duration of our stay, and we can certainly allow you the time to look after what pressing matters I'm sure must await you."

The atmosphere shifted, the dominance he once held, lost.

He shifted in his seat. "Speaking of pressing matters, I'm sure Acca has informed you of the dinner tonight?"

"Yes, she has."

"Most of the noble leaders of various tribes will be here. There have been a few conflicts among them, and I am no diplomat." He gave a wry smile. "However, they know you to have been a kind an just leader to your people, and will listen to you. They have developed much in the past five years, but there is still a ways to go, and I have little experience in what it takes to run a planet."

Padmé felt the blood rush through her veins at the prospect of being able to do what she loved. "What is needed?"

"You will have to ask the people. They will tell you how things stand, and you may feel free to make whatever adjustments needed."

"How will she know who to speak to?" Satine asked, her own eyes sparkling with anticipation. "How are matters taken care of now?"

He laughed. "I see that you are also eager to do something productive, Duchess. You may help Padmé in her efforts. Tonight, I will introduce you to the leaders. They will explain to you in detail how things are taken care of now." He sat back in his chair. "As I said, they are not all in agreement, so they will look to you on the best actions to take in the future."

Padmé and Satine exchanged looks of excitement. Finally, they would be back in business.

* * *

 **Hello Readers!**

 **Did the master's reveal surprise anybody? I hinted to it in the chapters before…**

 **Does anyone else love Acca? I have to admit, she has to be one of my favorite characters so far. And, if anyone's wondering about her age, I would say she's around fifteen/sixteen.**

 **Shoutout to our new favoriters and followers: DawnBlazeAbigail99, MuggleBornJedi, phhsdj, frenchfan78, and Lyn79, a million thanks!**

 **Lyn79: thank you! I hope you liked this chapter!**

 **MumsieDo: Ah, the mystery! Perhaps this second conversation with the Duchess did a bit to shed some light on his past… or not…**

 **Rambling (an)on [aka the long winded anon Guest reviewer :): wow, I think you've gotten closer to the truth than anyone else! I need to step up my game…**

 **My plot bunny is getting fat, lol…**

 **Question of the chapter: Who's your favorite character so far?**


	6. Chapter Five: The Dinner

Acca hadn't been exaggerating when she said that many Ehren would come.

By an hour before dinner, the throne room was nearly filled with the planet's natives. It was easy to see that most of these were the nobility. Their clothes were richer than that of the palace servants, the silky materials flowing easily as they moved around the room.

The few dozen leaders, with their hair partially shaved to reveal their tribal tattoo inscribed on their scalps, had all congregated on the stairs of the platforms. Conversation was swift among them, predominantly in Basic.

From her spot in the shadows, just behind the thick cushions that she would later be sitting on, Padmé listened intently to every word that passed between them.

She wouldn't be joining them until dinner was served, when everyone would be in the dining hall. Until then, she would listen and learn.

"I do not know what to do with him," one of the older leaders said. "And now, even worse, the other boys are doing the same thing."

"Kill him, that will be a simple end to it," another advised wisely.

Yet another, this one a woman, shook her head. "No. Violence is not the answer. We learned that in the war."

"But what do we do, then?"

"We could place him in confinement," a young man suggested.

"For how long?" The one advising to kill him asked. "And what about the others? Shall we put them all in confinement? Who will provide the food for them? Shall we have honest citizens toil for the renegades?" He shook his head. "No, kill him and make him an example. It is the best way."

"Sietka is right. Violence is not the answer," one man commented quietly. He leaned forward, tenting his hands. "Our numbers are still low, Teeto. If we start killing what is left, we will soon be no more."

The woman, who Padmé took to be Sietka, nodded. "I agree with Halteen. And if we are gone, who will take care of Master?"

A low murmur of agreement ran through the group. But then the first one cried out, "but how do we discipline him, then? He has already caused the loss of nearly six plants. We can not allow this to continue!"

Plants? Padmé couldn't believe her ears. They were discussing whether or not someone should be put to death because he tore up a few plants?

"I told you they need your help," the Master whispered in her ear, his solid mass suddenly pressed up against her back. "They won't come to me over such matters, knowing that I won't take them seriously."

Padmé stared at the leaders incredulously, watching as they bickered over the best way to administer punishment. "How could anyone? Would they really kill a man because he pulled up a few plants?"

He chuckled. "Boy, actually. Nandi is just turning four." He moved away, and Padmé immediately missed the heat of his body. "Though there distress is natural. It was only five years ago that they nearly died for lack of food, and they are still excessively cautious about their supply." The hood turned in her direction. "Though you know that, already."

Padmé ignored him, turning her attention back to the now heated conversation the leaders were having.

"...we shall starve!" An older woman exclaimed, jumping into the fray. "Teeto brings us the only plausible answer. We must kill him."

"And risk angering his family? He is the only surviving child, and all of them are too advanced to produce any more offspring," another argued. "They will surely gain the sympathy of others and wage war against us!"

Distress ran across all of their features. "On one end, war. On the other, starvation," a young man cited slowly. "There is no possible solution to this! We shall all die!"

Thankfully, the dinner bell rung just then, drowning out Padmé's snort at the preposterous words.

With a speed that she wasn't even sure she had, she hurried through the back halls until she came to the wing she and Satine were staying in. Without even bothering to knock, she pushed open the door of her friends room and dashed in.

"Satine, you'll never guess what silly thing I've heard now."

The duchess shrieked, hurrying to cover her bare skin with a large towel. Clutching it tightly, she glared at Padmé. "Haven't you ever heard of such a thing as knocking?" She hissed.

But Padmé wasn't listening to her, instead staring at the blonde's abdomen. Did I just see what I think I did…?

As if sensing her thoughts, Satine tightened her hold on the towel. She offered Padmé a terse smile. "I'm sure you came to tell me something," she said briskly. "What is it?"

So she didn't want to talk about it. Fine. Padmé could swallow her curiosity until later. "Yes. The Master showed me how to go to the throne room from the rear, and I took the advantage to see what sort of issues are among the leaders."

Padmé could see her shoulders relax. "Did you find out anything of importance?"

"Oh, only that they plan to kill a toddler for pulling up half a dozen plants," Padmé said breezily, knowing her friend wouldn't be able to keep her cool demeanor.

She didn't disappoint. "They want to kill a child?" She exclaimed, her voice several octaves higher than normal. "Over a plant?"

Padmé shook her head gravely. "You have not been listening carefully, Satine. Six plants. There's quite a difference."

The look Satine gave her suggested she was not amused. "We're talking about a matter of life and death, Padmé. This is not the time for joking."

She attempted a serious look, failing spectacularly. "How can it not, though? The very situation itself is preposterous."

Satine disappeared into her closet, sliding the door shut behind her. "Are you sure you heard them correctly?"

"As sure as I am that…" she hesitated, realizing the thoughtlessness of her words a split second before they passed through her lips. So instead of saying the thinly veiled jab that hung precariously on the tip of her tongue, she simply said, "...my name is Padmé Naberrie."

She must have noticed her hesitation, because Padmé heard a scoff from the other side of the closet door. "So what does the Master need us for, then?"

"He says they do not bring their issues to him because he won't take them seriously."

Another scoff, though Padmé suspected that it was aimed at the Master. "So he wants to put it off on us? And here I was thinking I was going to be dealing with something of importance."

"It is a matter of life and death," she replied, using her words from earlier. "Even if it is over half a dozen plants."

The door to the closet opened, and Satine stepped out fully dressed. Her eyes avoided Padmé's as she went to the mirror to inspect her attire critically. Seemingly satisfied, she turned back to her friend. "Well then, let's go save a child's life."

* * *

It wasn't until after Dinner that she had a chance to meet the elders.

For dinner, the Master had had her placed at his right hand, in her most drab attire. The leaders had been at the opposite end, out of hearing range and almost out of sight. It hadn't been until after she was whisked away to her room again to receive her new dress-which looked remarkably like the pink and peach gown she had worn when Anakin kissed her-that she had been allowed to mingle with the guests.

She entered the great room on The Master's arm, and was acutely aware of all the pitch black eyes watching her. Unlike any assembly she'd been to, they all reclined. Hundreds of soft cushions, blankets, and mats had been strewn on either side of the carpeted walkway, giving them all comfortable spots to be at their ease.

He led her straight up to the platform, where Satine was already waiting, having been allowed to come in ahead of time. Then, he turned so they faced the people and said something in the native language.

All at once, the Ehren began applauding, large smiles stretched across their faces. For perhaps the first time, Padme realized that these people really loved the Master.

Suddenly self conscious, she curtsied before sitting down among her own cushions. If she had broken any rules of etiquette, they didn't show it, slowly falling back into conversation.

The elders, who had once again taken up residence on the steps, immediately turned to her with interest.

"So, this Master's infamous Ami," The man Padmé recognized as Teeto said. He gave her an appraising look. "Finally here."

Sietka shook her head. "Hush, Teeto. She will not know you are making fun." Turning to face Padmé, she smiled apologetically. "I apologize for his rudeness, Ami. He is only upset on Master's behalf. I am Sietka, leader of the Chien."

The others followed her example, introducing themselves one by one until Padmé was fairly certain she knew them all.

Halteen leaned forward on his cushion, his dark eyes holding hers unabashedly. "Ami, we are in need of your advice. Master has told us that you used to rule, and you would understand how to handle such issues as we find ourselves faced with."

Padme smiled graciously. "I shall certainly do my best. What is it that I may help you with?"

The man with the problem in the first place, Takita, immediately took the opportunity."We have a young boy, Nandi, who has taken to uprooting plants. Teeto suggests we kill him, to make him an example, but others of us fear the retaliation that is sure to come from the family."

Holding back a laugh, Padmé questioned them seriously, "Has he been admonished for his behavior and told not to repeat the same actions?"

The leader nodded adamantly. "Yes. Three times, we have told him. His parents, his grandparents, and I have all had very serious talks with him."

She pursed her lips. "Have you tried spanking him?" They gave her empty looks. "I mean, whenever a child misbehaves where I come from, we simply use a strap of leather to slap their… bottom. Just to cause enough pain so they'll associate what they're doing as something bad."

Excitement passed over the elder's faces. "Yes, yes, that is what we shall do," Takita exclaimed. Smiling, he kissed his fingers, a gesture she had learned to be one of respect. "Ami, you are very wise. Soon, you shall come to Kati and show us how to do this 'spanking'."

"We shall all come," Halteen declared. "Then, we will all know what to do if this happens again."

Padmé could almost sense the Master's amusement. She smiled again. "Of course. As soon as Master sees fit, I will make sure to visit."

"Now, a more serious matter we have," Sietka said. "My people live on a mountainside, where no food will grow. Because we have no food to trade, we can not get anything from the markets. The cold will come soon, and my people will go hungry and die if we cannot find anything to trade. They have already traded much of their goods, so now they have nothing."

Finally, something worth her attention. "You cannot grow anything?"

"Nothing. Year after year, we have tried to grow, but the bordoks always eat them."

At this, the Master leaned closer to whisper, "a bordok is a small plant eating mammal that lives in the mountains here. They're very similar to the bordok's off Yavin."

Already, Padmé was starting to picture a solution. "Have you ever tried to catch one of these animals?"

Sietka nodded. "One of our men captured one a year ago and tamed it. They are very docile creatures, and survive off the grasses and shrubs."

"Have you ever tried killing one for meat?"

"Of course. They are a very special treat." She sighed. "But they go into the caves for the cold, and are very hard to find."

"Perhaps you could capture a few and breed them yourselves," Padme suggested. "Then, you can trade the meat for whatever plants you want."

Sietka's eyes lit. "Ami! You have saved my people! I will have to send someone back to tell them right away so they can start." Her eyes filled. "Master was right. You are most wise."

* * *

All evening, people came to call on Padmé's wisdom. Besides a few arguments involving hothead Teeto, most of the issues were easily settled.

It didn't take long to realize there was little in the way of government on Ehren. The leaders simply looked after their own people, mainly just passing on the Master's advice whenever applicable. Everything, everything was referred back to the Master.

Padmé had underestimated their esteem for him. They cared little about themselves. Though none of them wanted to die, their first thought was for him. All decisions were made with the Master in mind.

And now her.

Apparently, since the Master's happiness and comfort was first and foremost with them, and since said happiness and comfort depended on her, she was also of great concern.

By the time the issues Padmé could settle from the great room were completed, it was far past midnight. Seeing her weariness, the Master called Acca to come and escort her back to her room.

Before she did, though, Padmé decided to stop and check on her friend, who had retired only an hour after dinner. She could still see the faint glow of the light on under the door, though, so she had to still be awake.

And this time, she knocked.

"Come in."

She stepped into the dimly lit room to find Satine cocooned in her blankets, watching a holodrama. "Hi."

The duchess paused her movie. "Long evening?"

Padmé laughed softly, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. "You can't guess. It almost seems as if the Master has been leaving all these problems just for me to take care of."

"Maybe he did." An arm emerged from the blankets, picking up a shirt from somewhere. She shimmied it on. "You said earlier that he's been preparing for you since his arrival."

"He was waiting for someone, not me."

A dubious look crossed Satine's face. "Padmé, don't you think that there are a few too many coincidences for that? If what your maid said was true, then he's built a whole room in what you've admitted yourself to be the Nubian style, that your whole wardrobe is of the same Nubian style, that he immediately recognized you and was completely blank when it came to me. And all of this is just coincidence?"

Padmé squirmed a little. "I know it seems a little far fetched, but there can be no other explanation. Unless he's one of my delusional fans."

"A little more plausible, though he seems to be in his right mind." She turned over onto her side. "And he hasn't tried to get you alone yet, excepting the time in the library. If he was mentally unstable, I don't think he would be so considerate."

"You don't have to remind me of that awful experience," she groaned, burying her face in the soft blankets. "In fact, don't remind me of the Master altogether. I just want to forget all about him for a moment."

Satine seemed to sense what was coming. "Well, then, it's about time for you to get to bed, isn't it?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Padmé asked suspiciously.

"It will be nice to watch my holodrama in silence, yes."

"Satine…"

The duchess sighed. "Padmé, I'm tired. Can we talk in the morning?"

"You didn't seem very tired when we were talking about me," Padmé retorted.

Satine grumbled something under her breath, pushing herself up in a sitting position. "Fine. What is it you want to talk about?"

Triumphant, Padmé opened her mouth to voice the question that had been occupying her thoughts all night.

Only to be interrupted by a knock on the door.

Satine eagerly jumped on the opportunity. "Yes?"

"I hope I didn't wake you, Duchess." It only took a second to recognize the voice on the other side of the door. The Master. What was he doing here, at this time of night?"

"No, Padmé and I were just talking," Satine replied, glancing at her. Was that guilt in her eyes? "Please, do come in."

There was a shuffle of fabric, then the door slid open and the Master stepped in, a large box in his hands. "I apologize for intruding. My men found this earlier at the crash site, and I thought you might want it."

He set the box on the bed and lifted off the top. In it was their papers, an emergency comm unit, their jumpsuits, a first aid kit, and Obi-Wan's robe and lightsaber. Tears rushed to Padme's eyes at the reminder of her Jedi friend.

Satine let out a sob, taking the thick fabric and clasping it to her chest. "Was that… was that all?"

He hesitated a moment before pulling a small wooden box out of his pocket. "I… I think this might be yours."

Her friend's face went ashen as she took the box, her fingers smoothing over the glossy surface. Silent tears ran down her cheeks, even as she gave him a grateful look. "Thank you."

Somehow, Padmé could sense the privacy in the moment. It was if there was something she didn't know that he did. And it was surrounding that wooden box.

She needed to see what was inside of it.

"Satine?"

"No, Padmé."

She huffed. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"Let me clarify, then. If you were asking any positive questions concerning this box, the answer is in the negative. If you were asking a negative question about aforementioned box, the answer is in the positive." She pinned her with a look. "Now, what did you want to say?"

So she wanted to play that way, did she? Well, as her father Ruwee had often told her, there was always more than one way to skin a wampa.

* * *

 **I think Padmé might have her work cut out for her with the Ehren, don't you think? Saving poor children from death…**

 **So, I have the next two chapters already completed, and I'm thinking that if anyone can guess the name of Chapter Six, I'll update earlier. *hint, hint* It starts with a B, and it's semi-transparent*hint, hint***

 **Thank you, dawnlight7295, PocketRamblr, fvcr91, Nyx-Arae, patritosfan12, and JoieMaris for following and favoriting!**

 **MumsieDo: Thank you! I don't think this chapter was much in the revelation section, though.**

 **JoieMaris: I think you're the first person to say that, thanks!**

 **Rambling an0n: Ah, this has got to be my favorite review! It's great to know that someone really paid attention to my story and took the time to write a long review on it!**

 **Great Job(guest): Wish granted!**

 **Anyone want to take a guess at what's in the box?**


	7. Chapter Six: Bacta

Satine stared down at the glossy wooden box after Padmé and the Master had left. Somehow, even with the younger woman's continued pestering, she had managed to avoid answering her queries.

But now, her fingers itched to open it, to take everything out and look at them one by one, just as she'd done a hundred times in the past.

Had the Master looked? Seen the things that had been hidden inside?

Her fingers absently traced the date carved on the smooth lid. The same date as the one tattooed across her stomach.

Exactly seven months, three weeks, and two days after he had left Mandalore.

* * *

He floated weightlessly through some sort of void. Space? No, this was warm. Space was cold.

Death, then? He struggled to open his eyes. Was this the force?

Another jolt of electricity streaked through him, effectively shattering that theory. At least in the force he was supposed to have peace.

Perhaps he was drowning, and electrical eels were electrocuting him. His lips tugged up at the thought. Oh, what a story he would have to tell Anakin later. After, of course, his 'dutiful' padawan raked him over the coals for having to be saved for, what, the twelfth time? Or was it eleventh? Eleventh. After all, that time on Cato Neimoidia didn't count…

Wait, no, Anakin was dead. The familiar ache filled him. There would be no retelling of his dangerous adventures to his errant apprentice. And Padmé probably wouldn't want to hear. But perhaps Satine would.

The ache was slowly eased by the warmth that came with the thought of her. Yes, she would listen. Then she would tease him, say that he could never stay out of trouble. She might bring up one of their own misadventures for comparison, shake her head and say that he still hadn't learned. Her eyes would get that faraway look in them, going back to a time that neither of them had forgotten, her lips parting slightly, tempting. Then she would come back, and the look would disappear. The moment would be gone, as swift as it had come.

After all, it had been all so long ago. She probably had forgotten all but the misadventures of the mission. He wondered…

"If you had said the word, I would have left the order."

He sucked in a breath as he remembered the words. She hadn't said anything, her eyes filled with a turmoil of emotions that she always tried so hard to mask. Then, the next second, she had been dragged back through the halls by Padmé.

Every fiber in his being had commanded him to follow her. To give her yet another kiss, and another, until the undying affection he had regarded her with for the past three years would finally abate. It wouldn't, he knew, but he wouldn't have minded trying.

But his better sense, always the ruling factor in any situation of the heart, had anchored him to the pilot's seat, intent on giving the one person he loved more than life exactly that.

His life for her's.

But that meant that he was not drowning in a lake full of electric eels. That meant he was dead. This was the force. Unless, by some very cruel and not at all humorous sarcastic joke by the force, he had been sent to one of the seven sith hells instead.

That would certainly explain the electric charges frying his nerves. He didn't even know that sith could still use their lightning once dead…

If this was hell, though, he almost thought he could bear it. Not fiery hot as it had been rumored by the Jedi younglings in the crèche. More look a warm goo, with the occasional lightning strike.

Funny, it almost reminded him of a bacta tank.

"He's not responding to stimulation, Master. Shall we dispose of him?" A woman.

Dispose of him?

"No. Shock him again." A man.

Another electric shock charged his body, but he was helpless to respond to it.

"Still no response."

"Are you kidding me? His monitor spiked."

"Involuntary muscle spasms, Master. Fairly common in trauma patients-"

Trauma?

"-who have suffered extensive injuries-"

Extensive injuries?

"-and are made into a living battery."

She was certainly correct on the last point.

"Do I ask you to be sarcastic?" Irritation.

"No, Master." False sincerity.

"Then don't be." A pause. "Perhaps we should try again tomorrow."

"Master, he's been in that tank for a week. His body will soon begin to reject the bacta and cause him to languish."

So he was in a bacta tank!

"What do you suggest, then?"

Another pause. "I suggest we remove him. If he remains unresponsive for the next week, take him off life support, and let nature take it's course."

"I will not lose him!"

An indistinct mumble.

"What did you just say?"

Another mumble.

"You know I can hear you, right?"

Indistinguishable mumble, then, "Yes, Master."

Why did that sound so familiar? Was he back at the temple and a padawan was smack talking a Master?

But no, last time he checked, there were no head male healers that sounded like that. Perhaps a sith, then?

Automatically, he tried to reach out with the force, only to find his connection cut off.

Oh, that was not good.

Either he had somehow landed on a planet like Myrkr, with it's ysalamiri, or he was knowingly being kept, as a Jedi, under suppression.

Although he wished it was the former, he was pretty sure it was the latter.

"Perhaps, Master, if we discontinue the suppression, he will have the ability to draw on the force and revive himself?"

He hated himself for being right.

"Do you think it would work?"

Hope began to flare.

"There is a high chance, yes."

Yes! If he could just feel the force, he could work out everything else.

"Not yet. If, when you take him off life support, he is unable to sustain himself, then you may do so."

Blast!

"Yes, Master. Then, do I have your permission to remove him from the tank?"

"You do."

"Thank you, Master."

A whir, and the endless void suddenly became much more constricted. It was getting shorter, forcing him to sink to the bottom. Then, he was being lifted out of the tank.

Ridiculously cold air met him like a slap in the chest. What was this, Ilum?

Slowly, he could feel himself being lowered to some sort of surface. A bed? An operating table? A bench?

He struggled to open his eyes.

"Ah, it looks like he's responding to the cold."

"What does that mean?"

"It means he's still alive. He seems to be having a hint of paralysis, though."

"He's paralyzed?"

"No. It just means he can't move."

Wasn't that the same thing?

"What did I say about the sarcasm?"

"Yes, Master. Sorry, Master."

"You know, I'm beginning to realize why he hated when I said that…"

"Oh, and Master? Paralysis means that the patient is unable to respond. He may still be conscious."

A long line of expletives, most of which sounded vaguely familiar.

"As you say, Master."

"How would I know if he is conscious?"

"You can't, and you won't until the paralysis abdicates."

"Abdi- what?"

"Abdicate. When it leaves."

"Why can't you just say that then?"

"It's not a medical term."

"Do I look like a medic to you?"

"Did you see that, Master?"

"Stop trying to change the subject."

"No, his fingers twitched."

They did?

"They did?"

"Yes." The tapping of a keyboard. "His body is most likely responding to the reduction in temperature."

"Do you think he's conscious?"

"As long as he is unresponsive, we can't tell."

"What do you mean, you can't tell? This is top of the line equipment!"

"Which only deals with the physical activity. We can only tell if there is mental activity if he responds to some sort of signal, which he cannot do physically. The only thing we can tell about his mental activity is is the condition of his cerebral cells."

"What?"

"His brain."

"Oh. Right. So, um, how is his brain?"

"From all that we are able to ascertain, it is in excellent condition. It took a slight bump, but compared to his other injuries, it was nothing."

Nothing? He felt like a herd of Banthas had run over his skull. Twice.

Funny, the rest of his body felt surprisingly good.

"Master, may I ask how your guests are faring?"

"The Duchess seems to still be in a state of shock."

Duchess? Satine?

"And your precious Ami?"

A soft chuckle. "Padmé is doing much better. She has taken the news a bit harder than I thought she would, but she has recovered well."

"Do you think she will stay?"

"I don't know, Snips."

Snips?

"Oh, come on Master. You know what the Duchess said."

What had she said?

"She could be wrong."

Wrong about what?

"I believe her."

Believed what?

"You've never even met her."

"So? I've done my research."

"Right."

"I have! She's been a duchess for over sixteen years, since she was seventeen. With the aid of Jedi Master Jinn and his padawan Kenobi, she was able to bring peace to a formally hostile Mandalore. Their have been repeated attempts to overthrow her by a group of insurgents called the Death Watch. Her nephew Korkie Kryze is currently being instructed to take her place after her death. Happy?"

Mumbled words, then. "Yeah, you did well."

"Hey master?"

"Yeah, snips?"

"Does the Duchess have any siblings? Cuz I didn't see any."

"I think there's a sister, but they had a split years ago when she joined the insurgents."

"So… where did the nephew come from?"

The evil chuckle raised the hairs on the back of his neck. "Maybe you should ask the Duchess. I'm sure she'd know."

What was that supposed to mean?

"What?"

"Grown up stuff. You wouldn't understand."

"I'm not a kid, you know. I'm almost eighteen."

"Still not telling you."

"Why not?"

"Because it would besmirch a woman's good name."

"What the heck does that mean?"

"Don't ask me. How should I know?"

"You said it in the first place."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Everything!"

"I don't like that disrespectful tone."

A groan. "Yes, master."

"I'm still hearing it."

"Yes, Master."

"Better."

Their banter had been entertaining for a while, but he was getting tired.

"Master?"

Why wouldn't they leave him in peace?

"Yes, Snips?"

Just go. Let him nurse his pounding headache in solitude.

"Do you want to hear my report on Master Kenobi?"

"No," he groaned.

It was little more than a breath. Barely even a croak. He was parched.

"The patient has regained consciousness."

Oh, like he didn't know.

"Master Kenobi, can I get you anything? A glass of water, perhaps?"

He tried to reply in the affirmative, but no words could pass through the dry throat.

But the medic, or whoever she was, knew her job well. He was pushed into a sitting position and an ice cold glass was pressed to his lips. "Here, drink this."

Slowly, the water trickled into his mouth, wetting his throat.

As if anticipating his first question, she said softly, "your body is still suffering some of the lingering affects of paralysis. You should regain voluntary actions in only a few days."

Only a few days?

"You have been in a terrible accident, Master. You have sustained several critical injuries, and still have a long road to recovery."

Finally, his eyes seemed to unstick, and he squinted at his blurry surroundings. As he thought, there were two people standing over him, though they were still fuzzy. The man, he presumed, was the tall black figure, while the petite muulticolored medic sat on the edge of his cot.

"Wh…" his voice cracked, and he tried to clear his throat.

"Master Kenobi, I am Snips, a healer," the medic said. There was a snort. "Your ship crashed not too far from here, but the crew was able to isolate your section of the ship before the explosion. However, you were seriously injured, and it will probably be some time before you will be able to return to your full state of health."

He turned to look at the man, the one who had spoken of her. "Sat…"

"The Senator and the Duchess have both been given quarters a little ways off. I have seen that their needs are met until…" he hesitated. "Until suitable transportation can be arranged for them. I assure you, Master… Kenobi, they are both in excellent health. Worried about you, but otherwise okay."

He relaxed then. She was alive and well. That was the important thing for now. Later, when his strength came back, he would ask to see her.

Maybe Padmé too.

He smiled. Somehow, he doubted she was very worried about him. Though she wasn't exactly self absorbed, she had become detached after Anakin's death.

And he'd done the exact opposite.

He'd never been able to avoid getting attached. First to his brother, then to his crèche mates, then Cerasi, then Siri, his friends, Satine, Qui-Gonn, Anakin, the Jedi in general. Even Padmé could make it on to his list of attachments.

After Anakin's death, and the guilt that had followed, he had learned something. If you never stretch yourself to your fullest capacity, you would never truly be able to let go. Guilt was just as powerful an emotion as any passion that he had experienced. It held on to you, turning you inside out, causing an unending amount of grief and pain.

So, he made a rule.

Try not to get attached. But if you do, make sure you will never regret a single moment you spent with that person. And when the time comes, let go, knowing that you have nothing to regret.

Of course, following that rule was slightly harder than he thought.

He'd been too long settled in his ways to change immediately. He'd gotten used to pushing people away, to avoiding his feelings.

And with one person in particular, he'd been terrified at the thought of change.

Interesting how imminent death could change one's perception.

"If you had said the word, I would have left the order."

He had meant every word. On that last day on Mandalore he had been ready to stay. He had thought she would ask him. Expected it, really. His bag had been waiting, his goodbyes to Qui-Gonn rehearsed.

But she hadn't asked.

He remembered standing before her throne, in the battered palace, waiting for the words to leave her lips.

Watching her go to meet with her advisors on how to proceed.

Glancing over his shoulder on their way to the ship.

He'd even begged Qui-Gonn to wait until after she got out of her meeting, just in case she came looking for him afterwards.

It didn't actually sink in until the air patrol had asked him, by name, why they still hadn't left. She wouldn't ask him.

He had known then. She wouldn't ask that of him. He had a job to do, and she was going to let him do it.

He had only loved her more for it.

Even when they'd met again, in Padmé's living room, he had known she wouldn't ask. No matter how many times she would chide him for becoming a killer, no matter how many arguments they had about his duty, no matter how many times she accused the Jedi of betraying their true nature, she wouldn't ask that of him.

Though he would have left without a single regret.

* * *

The senate was in an uproar. The Senator Amidala was missing. Disappeared without a trace. And with her, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and Duchess of Mandalore Satine Kryze.

MIA. AWOL. Completely gone.

So far, they didn't know who to blame. Some said it was the Seperatists leaders trying to cut down the amounts of systems leaving. Others thought it could be someone in the actual Republic, with a private motive. There were even a few who speculated it was on purpose, since the trio had obviously been conducting a love affair for some time.

Whatever the reason was, they were no closer to finding them than they had been a week ago, when they'd first been reported as missing.

It was almost as if everything had come to a standstill. Oh, the war still raged on, and the senators still spent their time bickering. But there was little heart in it.

It seemed that the whole galaxy was in mourning. For a while now, the Republican citizens-and some Seperatists too-thought that the trio would be the one to bring peace back to the galaxy. Their debates, broadcasted across the galaxy, had been the thing to watch. Their discussions had been idolized by politicians and scholars alike. Apart, they were forces to be reckoned with. Together, they were well nigh unstoppable.

And until they would be found, there was no hope.

* * *

 **Hello! I hope all my Obi lovers were satisfied… (Any of you out there? No? Okay…)**

 **Honestly, I have mixed feelings about this chapter. It's not exactly my favorite, but I've already rewritten it five times, so it will have to do, I suppose…**

 **Can anyone guess who a certain medic is?**

 **Thank you, Stroz-tec and justcallmek for following and favorites!**

 **JoieMaris: thank you, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **MumsieDo: I hope this gave you some more food for thought! Though I don't think I've answered any of your questions…**

 **Rambling anOn: Than you for this review! So much inspiration… No, Satine isn't pregnant (though in the original version she was). Your theory about the box, though… I like it, and I might go that way with it. Yes, I wanted it to be a trivial matter that An… ahem, the Master, would laugh at. Though I don't think his people would appreciate the mirth. Don't worry, you were closer on your second guess, and I absolutely loved your review!**

 **SilentSambo88: Thank you! I had honestly forgotten all about Rush… I have corrected the line breaks now, because FF dot net was deleting them, so frustrating. (And her complacency will be discussed soon).**

 **Trivia: Obi-Wan and Satine were married in the original version.**


	8. Chapter Seven: Favle

Padme had almost forgotten what Acca had said about celebration.

The first night of dinner had been serious. Everyone was intent on respecting her, and finding the depths of her wisdom.

But tonight was all about rejoicing. Ami had come.

It was the first time since she'd arrived that she was outside. Of course, the Master was right beside her, his gloved hand pressed to the small of her back as they navigated through the crowded streets.

From the backside of the palace, from which way they had come, it had been impossible to see the village beyond. Airy two story houses lined the cobblestone streets. Children zigzagged across the stones, sending up shouts of excitement as the older kids waved eagerly from rooftops. Both women and men came and touched her hand, uttering a few words of reverence.

Of course, she couldn't understand a word any of them said, but Acca, who walked on her other side, translated as best she could.

From the first floor of every home, the family business, things were held out for her to take. Baked goods, candies, and meat samples she was able to take and eat herself, but the endless supply off fabrics, lace, jewelry, and any other man made things were taken by two boys who followed behind with giant baskets.

Eventually, they came to what Acca translated as 'meeting place'. It was a large square courtyard, surrounded by a sort of open air marketplace, where goods were being bartered. In the middle of the square, a fountain shot out of the ground, soaking the younglings that made the dash through it. A group of little girls stood off to the side, watching some of the older ones perform some sort of native dance. In a nearby field, the young men played various sports while the little boys ran foot races.

The whole place was alive.

"Do you like it, my pet?"

She held back a the involuntary shudder of pleasure that always accompanied that name. "It would be nicer if I knew what they were saying." By now, Acca had been waylaid by some of her companions, and Padmé was forced to listen to their peculiar tongue in silence.

He chuckled. "They are speaking of their love for you. Already, your words of wisdom have found their way into your people's ears, and they love you for it."

Padmé shook her head. "They're not my people."

He frowned. "I am their Master, and they are loyal to me. You are Ami, my Ami, and they are loyal to you."

"You say you are their Master. Are they slaves, then?"

His grip on her tightened. "They are people. My people."

"People can be slaves," she shot back. "Why else would they call you Master?"

"Master is a title they chose for themselves to call me," he replied, an edge of steel creeping into his voice. "I have no authority over them. I did them a service, and I received my payment for it. They have made the decision to continue to receive services from me, and so continue to pay me for them, on their own accord."

"And what about ones like Acca? What services is she receiving, that she be forced to be a slave to you?" Padmé retorted.

His jaw set. "She is not my slave, Padmé. I offered her protection and the fulfillment of all her needs in exchange for taking care of you."

She scoffed. "Sounds like a slave to me." He froze, and she continued walking as she tossed back the final jab. "Especially the part where you throw her against the wall."

* * *

Ahsoka Tano watched the gentle falling of the Jedi Masters chest rising and falling. After his brief moment of consciousness that morning, he had fallen asleep. She suspected he was trying to put himself into a healing trance, though it was impossible under the suppression.

It had been nearly three years since she had last seen him. He had often come to the crèche to tell the initiates stories, and she had once heard him ask the crèche master when she would be ready for apprenticeship. Everyone had known that Anakin was going to be knighted soon, and she had been over the top at the prospect of Master Kenobi training her. Thought by some to be the best Jedi in the entire order, with the exception of Yoda and Master Windu, every initiate wanted to be picked to be trained after Anakin was knighted. And she had thought she was the lucky winner.

She might have been, as well. Whether or not she was, she never knew. All thanks to a game of hide and seek.

Did they even miss her? Had they tried to look for her? She eyed the sleeping Jedi again. Would he remember her?

Of course, she had given him her nickname, so he shouldn't recognize her, especially under supression.

Sighing, Ahsoko picked up her datapad to check out the daily news. All across the holonet, the news of the missing diplomats was being discussed. Whoever could be spared was being deployed to find the trio. Everything that could be found on them was being combed through, and whole systems were dedicated to searching their planets.

Not like they knew. Master had briefed her on what the Duchess and Senator were allowed to know, and what they weren't. Same with the Jedi.

She'd tried to argue with him, get him to see reason he wasn't making it any easier on himself or the Senator by playing a part. Heck, she'd told him that three years ago when they'd first come here. But had he listened to her? Of course not. After all, he was the Master. She was just his padawan.

* * *

Satine floated in the cool water, letting the liquid soothe her emotionally drained body. She had been up another hour the night before, going through the things in the box. It had been over a decade since she had last gone through it, and the memories had brought both joy and pain.

"Not enjoying the festivities, I see."

She opened her eyes and rolled over onto her stomach. "Neither are you."

The Master frowned, sitting down heavily. His eyes were drawn together, the blue orbs filled with either frustration or vexation. "Do you think I treat the people as slaves?"

Padmé.

"Did she say that?"

His eyes stayed focused on the stone floors, even as red tinged his cheeks. "I didn't mean to do it," he said softly. "But when I saw her in them… asking if she looked like her, I snapped."

"Can you hand me my towel?" Satine asked, pointing to the thick towel draped over a nearby tree limb.

He sighed, raising his hand like Obi-Wan always would when he was using the force to call things to him, and for the briefest of seconds, Satine was sure she saw the towel move. But then he laughed. "It'd be cool to have the force, don't you think?"

She smiled. "I never even thought about it."

"Of course you did. You were with Obi-Wan all the time weren't you? You never got jealous about his power?" He asked, getting up and going over to the tree,

Satine shook her head. "Never. I admired him, yes, but never envy."

"Not even when you were in bed and the light was on?" He teased, handing her the towel.

"Okay, maybe a few times," she admitted, accepting it. "But that came from Master Qui-Gonn. Obi only rarely used the force for frivolous things."

The anger was gone from the clear blue eyes now, and they twinkled with mirth. "Yeah, he was always like that." He leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows. "What was he like? When you met him?"

She sat down on the edge of the pool, allowing her legs to soak in the warm water. "He was very quiet. Submissive. Wouldn't talk to anyone, but watched everything. Always stood one step behind Qui-Gonn, as if he was a shadow." She smiled. "I didn't like him. He refused to look at me, talk to me, or listen to me. I'd never met a Jedi before, but I'd heard legends that they were fierce, barbaric warriors. All passion and pride. A Mandalorian's equal."

He chuckled. "Bitter disappointment, then?"

"Very. All my life I'd been brought up to hate Jedi, because of the labels they had been given, but he was th exact opposite. I think I hated him even more because he gave me no reason to hate him," she admitted. "Qui-Gonn was impossible to dislike, so I didn't even try. But Obi…" she shook her head. "He was perfect. And he did it so… effortlessly. It was impossible to like someone who was always better than me."

"How did it change?"

"A month in, the insurgents ambushed us while Qui-Gonn was gone. We were captured, and taken back to the base. Qui-Gonn rescued us a few hours later." She sucked in a breath at the memory. "For the first time, I realized that he was human, just like everyone else. He had his faults, though he hid them well. After that, I made an effort to be more agreeable, and we slowly became friends."

He smirked. "And where in this friendship did you decide it was a good idea to jump into bed with the old goat?"

She rolled her eyes. "How did we even start talking about me? We were talking about you and Padmé."

The change was immediately noticeable. "She doesn't know what she's talking about."

Satine gave him a comforting smile. "You have to go easy on her. Anakin was a slave, so it's a touchy subject to her. Ever since he died, she's worked nonstop to see it abolished throughout the galaxy, even to the point where she's given money herself to buy whole families out of slavery and give them a living. She's had a whole community of nothing but former slaves set up to give them a place to start over, free of charge."

Something in his eyes changed, and a proud smile settled on his lips. "I had no idea."

"I'm not surprised. As a senator, she's not allowed to head it, so Obi-Wan's sister is the figurehead while Padmé runs everything behind the scenes." She rose, tightening her grip on the towel. "Don't judge her too harshly. Even though she may be extreme sometimes, it's usually for a good reason."

* * *

Padmé felt guilty.

Not too long after the Master had stormed off, Acca had rejoined her, showing off the new dress the Master had gotten her. And not only her, but every girl in the village. The young men paraded around in new tunics and leggings, showing off shiny new boots. The women marveled at the delicate jewelry that had been presented to them, while the men raced across they field on some peculiar biped animals called Chakas that the Master had gifted them from his very own stables.

Everywhere around her, the Ehren were praising the Master and reminiscing over his acts of kindness over the years. A few of the ladies who spoke Basic had gathered at her table, eager to praise him.

"I remember he give my baby food and go hungry," one of them said, her eyes shining. "Because of him, Matri play today."

Her friend nodded. "My man, he fall and hurt bad. Two clor he hurt, then Master come. Master touch, no more hurt."

"And he take me in so I learn from Ami," Acca interjected, refusing to be left out of the conversation. "I learn to be great leader, and help many Ehren!"

The women nodded. "Be a great leader, you will," an elderly lady stated proudly. "You make Master much proud."

Acca's cheeks darkened, and she ducked her head. "Many thanks, Tayi."

Padmé stared at the girl. So that was why he had made Acca her maid. The girl wanted to become a leader, and he had given her a position in which she might learn.

The guilt compounded. The more she listened to the tales of the Masters seemingly unending good deeds, the more she regreted her angry accusations.

It had been over an hour since he disappeared, and the people were growing restless. Apparently, he had not been the only one with surprises. They had prepared a feast for him unlike any Padmé had ever seen, and there were rumors of 'the lady' plotting with them to prepare a surprise unsurpassed. So far, she had been unable to get a word out of anyone as to what the surprise actually was.

Finally, just when the crowds seemed ready to storm the palace, a Togrutan girl came tearing through the village at a breakneck pace on the back of one of the biped beasts. One of the young men immediately jumped up to take the animals reins as the villagers bowed in respect.

Acca hurriedly stood and hurried over to the Togrutan, her eyes sparkling. "My Lady, you come."

The girl, who looked to be about a year Acca's senior, dismounted, brushing her gloved hands together. "I'm sorry it took me so long. Master had me finishing up some stuff at the clinic." She crossed her arms over her chest, shifting. "Is everything ready?"

"All ready," Acca confirmed. "Master come?"

She blinked. "He's not here?"

Acca's eyes widened. "No, we think he with my Lady."

The girl swore and hollered something in the native language. Immediately, the people cheered and snapped to attention as she began to give out instructions. "Neeja, you and Tati get lookouts on every street. Lani, go on Bana's and watch the valley. Chucha, get a team and watch all the windows and doors of the palace. Bori, take the younglings and set up the comm line. Joka, Acca, and Teeto are in charge. The rest of you, be ready." She vaulted onto the back of the Chaka, her narrowed eyes on the palace. "I'm going in."

The young adults quickly scattered to do her bidding, their dark eyes flashing with excitement. Acca strutted back to the table, obviously proud of her assignment. "Did you hear that, Ami? My Lady make me in charge."

Padmé looked stared after the retreating form. "Who is she?"

"My Lady? She come with Master, help fight for Ehren."

The two young men who had joined them, who Padmé assumed to be Joka and Teeto, grinned. "Yes. 'Soka big help to Ehren," one of them said. "Teach much Basic to Ehren village. Very brave, very beautiful."

His companion nodded. "Every ten moon, she help with Mun Favle. Much fun, many games. I win last race."

A child, no older than six, ran across the square on chubby legs, crying out something in the native tongue. Immediately, Acca and the others jumped up. "It's Master. He's been spotted."

Another cry rang out somewhere in the village, and the boys all rushed for the animals who had been tethered at one end of the square. Before anyone could say a word, they were off through the streets, as fast as they could go.

At Padmé's bewildered expression, Teeto explained. "Big game. Master try to find surprise without us knowing. Every favle he promise he won't, but he does." The youth's eyes sparkled. "The winners who find him get Chakas, like Soka's."

"You call hide seek, yes?" Acca asked.

Padmé nodded, though she had never seen a game so vast as this one. "What about the girls?"

"We be lookouts, help favorites," Acca replied. "If favorite wins, he get Chaka. Without Chaka, he no can build house for his tami."

"Tami?"

Acca hesitated. "How do you say? Special? Chosen?" She shook her head. "Tami and he live in house, make youngling."

"Oh, a wife."

"Yes, yes. Master give winner Chaka so he can build home for his tami."

So this elaborate game of hide and seek was more than just about getting a prize or having fun. The Master was giving the young men a chance to be independent. Once again, the guilt from her callous words came back.

For a half hour, the people remaining in the square waited tensely. Every few minutes, a call would go up, and a youngling would run back to report the current status of the hunt. Slowly, the hunters and the hunted were making their way to the square, each playing tricks and setting traps.

Then, somewhere in the village, yells of triumph went up. Acca shot up again, her eyes alight with excitement. "They've caught him. It won't be long, now."

It wasn't. Only a few minutes later, the hunters rode in, triumphantly leading the Master, who they had bound. Their heads held high, they led him straight to Padmé before dismounting and bowing. Playfully, they jostled the Master to his seat, chattering in their queer language.

He gave them a wry smile, replying in their own tongue. Then, as if the thick straps around him were strips of paper, he stretched and they snapped. The boys groaned.

"Every ten moon, they hope to find something that can bind him," Joka explained. "He offers the one who can a fine house and much good land."

The togrutan, who had come in with the victors, came striding over to the table. "Well, Master, you got caught again."

He reached over and tugged on a blue striped headtail. "Snips, I want you to meet…"

"Padmé, right." She flashed her a smile, holding out a hand. "I'm Soka, and this is my idiot of a Master…"

He clapped a hand over her mouth, grumbling something under his breath. "Don't you have something to do, Snips?"

She shook her head, pulling away and smiling cheekily. "Nope. Anyway, you did say I should get to know her."

His lips pressed into a thin line and he gently shoved her toward the celebrating youth. "Why don't you go join your friends, Soka? I'm sure they want to talk to you."

Smirking, she slowly sauntered away. "Whatever you say, Master. Whatever you say."

The Master shook his head, turning to face her. "I apologize for her behavior. She can be a little headstrong."

Padmé nodded. "I understand. You are her guardian, then?"

He hesitated. "I suppose you could say that. There was an unfortunate accident, and I was the only one she had, so I took her in. She's been a great help to me, especially where the younglings are concerned." He offered her a weak smile. "Just as I hope you will help with the people."

She ducked her head, playing with the edges of her gown. "I apologize for my uncalled for comments earlier. They were unfounded, and completely without truth. I would have said nothing, but slavery is…"

His finger hooked under her chin, bringing her face up to look at him. For the briefest of moments, she almost thought she saw a flash of blue under his hood as his thumb pressed against her lower lip. "Think nothing of it, my pet," he whispered. "My angel."

* * *

 **Hello all! I hope you're pleased with the developements so far…**

 **Shoutout to the new favorites and followers of Vanished: TinaBM91, Meyala, 4gardiean, Kuramas, RiddleMeEvil01, elljayde, and BritMer! Thank you guys!**

 **Phhsdj: thank you!**

 **MumsieDo: Yes, he is. And no, Ashoka isn't here by chance. I have a good reason for bringing her in. I hope (and doubt) that some of your questions have been answered.**

 **Rambling an0n: Ah, here's my favorite reviewer! About the tattoo, I think the next chapter will give you some explanations on that. And as to her and the Master, I think you're right. They never really said about Soka, but I know that she had been at the temple from a young age. There is a story to how she got there, though. Yes, obitine was married, but when I was editing it this time around, I couldn't fit them together, so I didn't.**

 **Trivia: Ahsoka was never in the original.**


	9. Chapter Eight: Ami

Padmé felt like a queen again.

Almost immediately after the week long favle had ended, she had been reminded of her promise to visit the twelve provinces. The tour would serve multiple purposes: to meet the people who had been unable to journey to the Capital for favle; to acquaint herself with the customs and land; to mete out judgement upon whatever criminals she so happened to come across; and to help the leaders in whatever capacity they demanded it.

Now, she stood in the grey dawn, bidding farewell to the villagers who had left their beds to see her off. They tried to convince her to stay, although she reminded them repeatedly that she would only be gone for two, three weeks.

Finally, they seemed to accept that 'Ami would be back', and began to give her more gifts than she could possibly use on the trip. So, after giving them to Acca for safekeeping, she turned to Satine.

"Are you sure you want to stay here?"

The duchess smiled, glancing at the Master. "It would be of no use for me to come. I would just get in the way."

"But you haven't even been outside while we've been here," Padmé protested. "You've just kept yourself cooped up in your room."

Her smile slipped slightly, and a raw, aching sadness filled her eyes. "I'll miss you, Padmé. Come back safe."

As it seemed with most of their conversations since their arrival, Satine had changed the subject. Padmé sighed, offering her a week smile. "Won't you come just to keep me company?"

"You'll have the Master for that." She glanced at him again, and Padmé was almost certain her smile turned secretive. "He adores you, you know."

Padmé scoffed. "We don't even know each other, Satine."

"He knows you better than you think." She squeezed her hand. "Take this time to get to know him, Padmé. Maybe he'll finally let someone see what's behind that hood."

Padmé stared at her friend. "Why do you sound like his mom?"

Satine laughed, stepping away. "Have a good trip, Padmé, and remember what I said."

Deflection. Would she ever be able to get a straight answer from the woman? "Don't stay in too much. I want you to get some sunlight at least an hour a day, okay?"

"Now who's sounding like a mom?"

The Master stepped forward. "If we're to get anywhere before dinner, pet, we should go."

Satine nodded. "Of course. I apologize for delaying you." She hugged Padmé once more. "Be safe. And you," she turned to the Master, her features softening. "Take care of her. I don't want to regret this."

He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and smiled, the same secretive smile the Duchess had given him earlier, and Padmé felt a pang of envy. "Thank you, Satine." Lifting her lightly into the hover carriage he had acquired, he nodded to the togruta, who was shooting him glares between yawns. "Soka, stay out of trouble and watch everything. You know what you need to do."

The teenager rolled her eyes, tightening her robe around her. "Yeah, sky-" he cleared his throat and she rolled her eyes again. "Master. Kriff, you don't have to be so strict. I'm not the one who…"

"Soka," he growled.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." She yawned again. "Can you go so I can go back to bed?"

He groaned and muttered something that sounded like, "force, forgive me," before gesturing to the two human guards that were to accompany them.

One of them whistled, and the Chaka pulling the carriage began to move forward, drawing her away at a rapid clip. For the last time for the next three weeks, she looked back at the palace. Acca waved furiously from her place with the townspeople, while Satine smiled serenely. Then, they rounded a bend in the path, and they could see the others no more.

* * *

There first stop was in the province of Vigi, where they arrived just as the sun was setting.

The main village sat nestled in its woods, the cabins a stark contrast to the airy homes of the Capital. Smoke rose from the chimneys of the quaint homes as children ran up to them, shouting in the Native language. Before the carriage even stopped, the Leaders and half of the villagers had gathered around, and the call of 'Ami' was heard on everyone's lips.

The Master said something to the elders, who in turn spoke to the people. In minutes, the villagers had disappeared, and it was just her, the Master, and the three leaders.

"Is everything ready?" The Master asked softly.

One of the leaders, a woman she remembered to be Tara, nodded. "The house is prepared. Will you partake of our dinner?"

He shook his head. "Not tonight. Ami is tired."

Padmé began to protest, but the Leaders nodded. "We expected as much. You will find dinner waiting for you."

"Good." Scooping her up gently, he nodded to them. "Lead the way."

The house that had been set aside for them was on a slight rise, just beyond the village. From it, they had a birds eye view of the village. From the few dozen cabins with smoke rising from their chimneys, to the deserted open air market place in the square, much like at the capital. Already, the women were bringing out the food for the community meal the villagers shared every evening.

After dismissing the Leaders, the Master opened the door to the house and set her down.

Padmé's stomach growled when she saw the meal that had been prepared for them, but was abruptly pushed aside. The two human guards which had accompanied them on their journey pushed past her and the Master in an effort to get to the feast. "Food!"

The Master cleared his throat disapprovingly.

The brothers froze, guilty looks forming on their faces as they slowly turned to face them. "Sorry, Master."

"Am I the one you should be apologizing to?"

They bowed. "We apologize, Ami."

Padmé's eyes widened. "Please, think nothing of it. You have not had a chance to eat since we set out, so I'm sure you must be starving."

Offering her grateful smiles, they glanced at the Master. He nodded. "Go ahead."

Like two famished teenagers, they quickly took their seats and began to eat.

Padmé was sure that if she could see the Master's face he'd be rolling his eyes.

"Men will be boys," she said lightly, and he laughed.

"Surely, my pet, you don't think I'm still a boy?"

Padmé sucked in a breath, looking down at her hands. How had he managed to twist their non-existent conversation? "I never… I didn't mean…"

The back of a gloved hand traced her jaw, rousing the familiar flames of attraction. Suddenly she was seized by the desire to see his eyes, to know if they held the same promises that his wandering fingers did. The promise of something more, even if it was just for one night.

He stepped away from her, leaving her feeling cold and bereft. "Colier, Matri, I'm going for a walk." They exchanged looks, still munching on two crusty pieces of bread. "Watch out for Ami, make sure she eats and has everything she needs. I might be back in time to make sure she gets to sleep, but if I'm not, make sure she does."

The two nodded, turning back to their meal as he ducked out the door, leaving her alone. She watched as he jogged down the path to the village, pausing when a girl stepped out of a cabin and beckoned to him. He said something and she grinned, dragging him back into the structure.

An ache that Padmé was horrified to find was jealousy had quickly blossomed. She quickly turned away from the door to find the two young men watching her, smirking. Feeling the heat rise in her cheeks, she glanced at the stairs that presumably led to the second story, and the bedrooms.

"I think I'm just going to go to bed now…" she mumbled.

They shot to their feet. "I'm sorry, Ami, but Master was very specific when he said that you need to eat first. He… he will be very angry if you go to bed without having your dinner."

Padmé gave him a weak smile. "Please, tell him it was my choice. I don't feel like eating just now." It was the truth. Her stomach was tying itself in knots at the thought of what the Master was probably doing in that girl's cabin. There had to be a reason it was the largest in the village, right?

The queasiness grew, and she couldn't resist glancing back at the door.

"Is there something wrong, Ami?"

She tore her gaze away from the doorway, shaking her head. "No, nothing. I was just… it's nothing."

A brief argument in a language Padmé didn't recognize quickly took place, until one of them turned to her, his brown eyes sympathetic. "Master will know we are lying to him if you don't eat anything," he explained. "You don't have to eat a lot, just enough that we can say that you ate."

She sighed, eyeing the food. "I'll have some of the bread, then, and a glass of wine." She yawned, edging up the stairs slowly. "And I want it in bed, if you please."

* * *

It was nearly an hour later when the Master returned.

Padmé was seething, infuriated by the fact that he had the nerve to flirt shamelessly with her, only to disappear with another woman. Not that she cared, of course, for herself. All of her concern was for the girl, being cruelly double played.

Not that she seemed to have minded, judging by the smile on her face. And surely she had heard of Ami, right?

Speaking of which, what was Ami supposed to be to the Master? His mistress? His 'pet'? His wife?

"You should be asleep."

She turned over and shot him a glare. "What took you so long?"

He hesitated. "I took an unexpected detour."

Padmé scoffed, rolling over so her back was to him again. "Of course you did."

"What happened while I was gone?" He demanded. "Did Colier or Matri say something to you?"

"No. Unlike you, they've been everything a woman could want in a man. Kind, accommodating…" she held her breath, trying to judge his reaction. Nothing, so she decided to go for the bomb. "...eager to please…"

He swore harshly, making her flinch. Without saying a word to her, he turned and stormed out of the room, yelling for the two guards.

They responded in questioningly, though Padmé was sure she could hear the panic in their tones. The Master said something harshly in the language they had spoken earlier, and they quickly replied defensively, their voices borderline terrified.

Then, there was a sickening thud, and all went silent.

Padmé sucked in a breath, throwing the blankets off of her and rushing for the stairs. She got to the bottom just as the front door slammed.

In the corner, the brothers sat huddled together, whispering to each other. When they saw Padmé, they shot her a glare that spoke as clearly as if they had uttered the words. She was to blame.

Feeling sick, she threw open the door, hoping against hope she could catch the Master and make him see reason. Yet, there was nothing but the lights from the village, and the dying fire in the square.

"You won't catch him," the one who had spoken before spat. "He's gone."

The other one muttered something, and she frowned. "What did he say?"

"I thought Ami was supposed to care about others than just herself, that she wasn't like those before," He scoffed. "Maybe Master was wrong. Maybe you're not Ami after all."

Padmé faltered. "I…" what could she say? He was right, she had acted selfishly. Had been acting selfishly. "I apologize." She wanted to add a reason as to why, but all of them either sounded selfish or like excuses.

He stared at her for a moment. "For what?"

"For letting you be on the receiving end of my selfishness."

His face softened minutely as he nodded. "We accept your apology."

* * *

Padmé was still awake when the Master came in a few hours later.

He didn't even look at her. "You should be asleep."

"I… I wanted to say something to you, and… and I didn't know when you were coming back." When he didn't reply, she swallowed and pressed on. "I may have… kriff that… I falsely accused your men earlier. They were never more than distantly polite, and I apologize for twisting that." She wrung her hands together. "I was… angry… with you for leaving, and I took it out on them."

"Padmé Amidala? Angry because a man left her? How the mighty have fallen," he scoffed, tugging off his boots. "I remember the days when she could care less about a man paying any attention."

She huffed. "If you can remember that, then you should remember that apologizing is very hard for me. This…" she gestured at the room. "This is all new to me. Even as queen of Naboo, I never was so… close to the people. And though most of them respected me, it was never like this."

"Why shouldn't they? They know how I… you're Ami, and if I respect you, then they do."

"Then I apologize for not appreciating that respect," she replied sincerely. "May I ask you a question?"

"If you wish, my pet."

"What am I to you?"

Sitting down beside her on the bed, he wrapped his arms around her waist. "You, Padmé Amidala, are mine," he whispered, his breath hot on her ear. "You are my pet, my queen, my love…" a kiss to her neck followed each declaration, making her moan softly. "My Angel."

At one time, any person who would have called her that would have gotten a knee to the groin.

But when the Master was whispering it against her neck, wrapping her in a lusty haze, she found she didn't mind at all.

* * *

Satine had never been so completely and utterly bored in all of her life. Not exactly surprising, considering that she had spent the latter part of her life being a full time Duchess and part time mediator, and the former training for that position.

But now there were no meetings to attend, no debates to hold, no social gatherings to go to. It was just her and the palace.

All of the servants had been given the time to visit their families, so they weren't there to talk to, even if she could understand them. With the exception of Padmé's maid, they understood very little basic, and spoke even less.

There was, of course, the Togruta, but she spent most of her time in her own apartment, far on the other end of the palace.

The library was a comfort, but one could only read so many novels. None of the news was current, so that was of little consolation.

As it always seemed to do now, her mind drifted to Obi-Wan again. The last few moments she had spent with him, wrapped in his arms, his lips pressed to hers…

Somewhere down the hall, a door slammed, jarring her from the bittersweet memory. With more effort than she remembered it taking before, she pushed herself off the bed before going to the door and looking out.

The Togruta, going down the hall as she did every morning and evening. Satine hadn't the slightest idea where she went, neither did she really care, but boredom had made her curious. Silently, she followed the girl. Down the hall, past the library, past the hall that led to the gardens.

Right to the door at the end. It was locked, she knew, for she had tried it twice. But now, the door opened, allowing the Togruta to step into a small, closet like room. A turbo lift.

The door closed again, and the telltale whir told her the lift had either ascended or descended. More than likely the latter, since she didn't recall seeing a second story on the palace.

But what would the Master and 'my Lady' have that they needed to hide?

"May I see them?"

The question was the same one he asked every day, and as usual, Snips shook her head. "The Senator has not returned yet, and the Duchess is taking her afternoon nap." She carefully began to unwrap his leg. "She said to tell you she'll be back down tomorrow, and to try not to fall asleep before she does.

"Insufferable woman," he grumbled softly. "Why can't she visit when I'm awake?"

She made a disapproving noise in her throat as she pulled the gauze bandage off his ankle. "You need to stop trying to stand. You're leg won't heal if you do."

He waved away her concerns, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "I've suffered worse. It's nothing more than a sprain, and it is of little use to let myself get stiff because of a bruise."

"No standing on it," she retorted firmly.

"May I have crutches, then?"

Her lips pursed. "We don't have any."

He scoffed, slowly and precariously getting to his feet. "Nonsense. There's a set in the utility closet by the scanner." Wincing, he hobbled towards the sink.

"Fine, you can have the crutches. But only if you promise not to leave this room," she said sternly.

Drying off his face, he gave her an innocent smile. "Why would you think I would do something like that?"

"You tried to mindtrick me into letting you out yesterday." She pointed out, retrieving the crutches. "And the day before that you tried to escape while I had my back turned. And the day before that you…"

"So I might have tried to get out of this prison a few times," he admitted. "May I speak to you master?"

The girl shook her head. "He's with the Senator. They wont be back for over a week." She handed him the crutches. "Here. No escaping, remember."

He sighed. "Who does your Master think he is, keeping me locked up like this?" He groused. "It is illegal to hold me against my will."

She snorted. "Actually, no it isn't. You are injured, because of which we have every right to detain you until you have healed."

"Under suppression?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You are holding me against my will under suppression, with the excuse of being injured. Injuries, which, if I recall correctly, you inflicted."

Her lekku darkened, and she turned away quickly. "Your suppression is for your own safety. As for myself being the cause of your injuries, I believe you are mistaken."

"Are you to make me to understand that my ship was not shot down? After being drawn out of hyperspace by a tractor beam?"

She hesitated. "We were not the cause of your crash," she finally replied, the words spoken with careful precision. "Master would never purposely put her life in danger."

A sinking feeling filled him. "Her?"

The togruta abruptly shook her head, crossing the room quickly. "You heard what I said. Don't leave this room, and try to stay off of that foot." Her palm pressed against the reader beside the door and it slid open. "I'll be back in the morning to check on you."

And with swish of her lekku, she was gone.

* * *

 **Did anyone get an alert for this or the previous chapter? FF dot net has been acting very finicky of late, so I apologize if that happened to you.**

 **Okay, so this chapter was really, really late, and was a bit of a filler. I'm sorry, but the action should start soon, so… forgive me?**

 **As always, shoutout to favorites and follows from: Mikki88, WolfKinight94, emonpersia, .7, Athena Skywriter, Fanfic-Um-Fan, janed12000, AcesAndSpaces080, qazmlpwsx, tacker23, and Jadaerys.**

 **phhsdj: Don't worry, Ahsoka's arrival will be explained more in depth later.**

 **MumsieDo: Ah, I was afraid you weren't going to review! I think FF has gotten it straightened out, so you got the alert for this chapter. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and maybe (as usual, probably not) some of your questions were answered!**

 **Trivia: Padmé knew about Obi and Satine's relationship.**


	10. Chapter Nine: Plans

**Please check out my sister's story, The Sith Who Stole My Heart by ChristyGreen!**

Korkie Kryze had never seen such a variety of people all together in his life.

Four Jedi Masters, two Jedi Knights, two Mandalorian soldiers, six female former Death Watch members, a teenage Seperatist senator, three Republican senators, the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, the Vice Chair of the Republic, ten clone troopers, six Nubian women, a dark skinned Nubian man, a Gungan, and Korkie himself were in the Chancellor's office, come together to discuss the disappearance of his aunt, Master Kenobi, and the Senator Amidala.

The Chancellor steepled his seemingly lifeless fingers on his desk. "Master Jedi, what efforts have been made to find our dear, missing ones?"

Korkie raised an eyebrow, wondering if anyone else bought the false concern that seemed to radiate off of Palpatine.

One of the Jedi Masters, a dark skinned individual with dreadlocks and a yellow line across his nose, crossed his arms. "Both my and General Kenobi's men have been working full time to sweep the potential landing locations in Republic space. As of yet, the Seperatists and Neutral systems have not been cooperative in our efforts."

Senator Bonteri rose to his feet. "Master Jedi, the system of Onderon is willing to provide assistance in your search in Seperatist space. Even though we may be of opposite sides, the Duchess is my aunt, and was a great friend of my mother's. We will stop at nothing to see her returned home."

"A noble sentiment," Palpatine acknowledged. "But…"

"No buts, Chancellor," Night Owl leader Bo-Katan cut in. "My sister could be dying for all we know. Do you honestly think I'm going to sit around on my asteroid while you 'but'? To the seven sith hells with you, then." Seemingly careless that she had just insulted the Chancellor, Korkie's aunt turned to Lux. "You have the Night Owls full cooperation. Satine and I may not always have agreed, but I won't let her die."

Jedi Knight Ferus Olin stepped forward. "I will accompany you. It will be good to have a Jedi among the group, and I will not be easily recognized."

Bonteri nodded. "Thank you, Commander Kryze, Master Jedi. We will gratefully accept your help."

Seemingly miffed, the Chancellor sat back. "Senator…"

"As friends of the Senator Amidala, we have agreed to offer a bounty for the return Padmé and her colleagues alive," Senator Bail Organa interjected. The other two Senators, Senator Mothma and Senator Chuchi, nodded in agreement.

Two female Jedi Masters stepped forward, their faces solemn. "With the Chancellor's permission, we wish to be temporarily relieved of our duties in order to find the Ambassadors. The Republic has come to see them as a signal of hope, and their disappearance has caused a drop in morale. If we could bring them back, it will do much good for the Republic."

"Master Jedi, do you not think it would be more prudent to…"

"Granted," Jedi Master Windu interjected, cutting off the Chancellor. "Knight Eerin shall accompany you as well. She has experience in healing, which may be of service."

One of then Nubian women, who had a striking resemblance to the Senator Amidala, folded her hands together. "The government of the Naboo and the leaders of the Gungans have agreed to further Senator Organa's bounty."

Korkie stood, swallowing the rush of nerves at speaking to such a widely revered group. "On behalf of the New Mandalorians and of the ruling family of Stewjon, the Council of Neutral Systems have granted the Jedi full leave to search their systems to find the Duchess, Master Kenobi, and the Senator. Lady Adira Kiyo of Stewjon also wishes to be informed of all progress in the search for her son, and offers help in any capacity needed." He straightened. "I wish to also be allowed to know of the progress of the search. Both Master Kenobi and the Senator Amidala were close friends of my aunts, and I want to do everything in my power to ensure they are returned home safely."

Was it just him, or had a look of displeasure crossed Palpatine's face? "Very well. Meeting adjourned."

* * *

Finally, she was able to make her way from the masses.

A youngling ran past her, sending her thoughts back to the encounter a few days ago, at their fourth stop, in the province of Basra. There had been a woman there that was considered an outcast because she had conducted affairs with several of the married men of the village. The women and many of the men refused to trade with her, causing her family to starve. So she sent them out to beg, and if they couldn't get anything, to steal.

The people had rallied against her, demanding that she be put to death for her crimes. But her argument was simple and true. She had not been the one to commit the crimes, her children had, so she shouldn't be the one blamed. Anyway, if they put her to death, who would take care of the poor children?

She had no relatives, having lost her family in the war, so they were out. None of the townspeople were willing to be shackled with children of disgrace, even though it was undebatable that at least one of the men were their father. But no paternal instinct stirred to take care of the starving children, and every door was slammed in their faces.

The Master had been in favor of putting her to death, but he willingly conformed to Padme's arguments. With a warm kiss to her cheek and a whisper in her ear, he assured her that he trusted her wisdom, allowing her to make the decision that she wanted.

So she had bound the woman onto a Chaka and loaded the eight younglings into a cart, sending them back to the palace under the care of one of the bodyguards. The Master had simply laughed, ruffling her hair fondly.

Now, making her way to the Master, who was talking with the Leaders, she offered them a smile, slipping her arm through his. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

The trio bowed, the usual show of respect for Ami, while the Master simply gave her an amused smile. "Is my pet finished speaking to her loyal subjects?" He teased softly, his breath hot on her ear.

She felt the familiar tug of attraction, which only seemed to have grown since the first night of their journey. Most likely from the constant petting he lavished on her, always followed by a dose of charm and seduction. Not that he ever seemed willing to follow through with his promising gestures and tones.

Trying to ignore the warmth of his lips just mere inches away from her skin, she replied in the same teasing tone, "What, did you miss me, Master?"

A low growl rippled through his throat, catching her off guard. "Careful, my pet," he murmured. "Those who play with fire often get burned."

Heat flooded her as his lips brushed against her ear, his arm wrapping around her waist possesively.

One of the Leaders coughed, bringing their attention back to their audience, who were sharing knowing looks. "Master, Ami, it is late. We will leave you to retire."

The Master said something in a short, clipped tone, and the three quickly scattered to their own respective homes. Then, with his arm still around her waist, he began to lead her back to the dwelling the townspeople had set aside for them.

Padmé watched him, her eyes tracing every inch of the part of him she could see, then dropping to puzzle over all that she couldn't. Even through his robes, he was a mass of lean muscle. His hands, concealed by the black gloves, hid a hand as soft and gentle as her own, and one that could be so firm and strong as if it were made of durasteel.

But nothing hidden intrigued her as much as the face he hid behind the hood. For as long as she could remember, she had read people through their eyes. How adequately had the poet described them as 'windows to the soul'.

And yet, here were a pair hidden from her sight. Everything he said, did, thought, that might have been revealed through his eyes, was hidden from her.

So she focused on the lips.

Ridiculously pink, they were her only key to his emotions, and she fancied she was improving at reading them. The smiles, smirks, frowns, scowls; they all told of his emotions, though they were often so intricate it was impossible for her to decipher them.

It was only when her fingers brushed their velvety softness that she realized she had unconsciously brought her hand up to touch them. But before she could snatch them away, he was kissing the tips of each of her fingers, setting fire to nerve endings she never even knew she had.

"You're tired, my pet," he whispered huskily. "You should rest."

Every fiber in her being cried out for something more, but she resisted, choosing instead to nod obediently.

Silently, he led her to the single bedroom, identical to every other one she had stayed in on their trip. Though the fact that their was only one bed had bothered her initially, he had soon put her at ease by sleeping downstairs.

Now, however, she took her place in the soft bed with more than a little regret. The emptiness and loneliness wasn't new, but it never had been as acute as at that moment when he stepped away from her, leaving her feeling bereft.

In an instant, a decision was made.

"Please," she said softly, "stay."

He paused in his retreat, glancing over his shoulder. "What is it, my pet?"

Padmé swallowed, the full meaning of what she was asking sinking in. "Don't go," she muttered, unable to bring her voice above a whisper. "I'm lonely."

"No."

She looked up at him in surprise. "I'm not asking for sex with you," she elaborated, her cheeks heating. "I just want someone to… to sleep next to. It's chilly, and I sleep better with someone beside me."

"No," he repeated, harsher. Then, so quiet she had to strain her ears to hear him, he added, "not until I know…"

"Master?"

"Hush, my pet, and sleep."

* * *

Ahsoka was at her wits end.

Master still had a week before his return, and already so many things were going wrong.

Now, she spent every waking hour in the clinic, making sure the Jedi couldn't escape. Again. He'd already gotten out twice, though never getting farther than the lift.

But even that wasn't the worst part.

Every day, he asked to see the Duchess. And every day, she fed him some excuse, saying that the Duchess had come to see him while he was asleep.

He'd quickly caught on to her game, and had refused to sleep until her next visit.

Ahsoka had made up every excuse she could think of. All to hide the truth.

The Duchess didn't have the slightest idea he was even alive.

That, in and of itself was another weight on her shoulders.

With the Senator gone and nothing to occupy her time, the Duchess had slipped into a full fledged depression. Ahsoka had cursed herself for not noticing the symptoms earlier.

It had started simply enough. She began to take her meals in her rooms, understandably since she was all alone at the dining room table. But it hadn't been until the maid informed her that she hadn't gone for her morning swim in the gardens that Ahsoka had begun to suspect.

Now, for the fifth day in a row, the Duchess hadn't left her room. And according to the maid, she hadn't touched her food for the past three days.

Ahsoka was panicking.

She had told her Master once that the Duchess wasn't in good spirits, but he had merely told her to not worry, that she was probably still mourning Kenobi's death and that she would get over it. Then, he had asked her if he had been wrong, that perhaps she wasn't as capable as he had thought her to be. She had been quick to dissuade that notion.

Though she was regretting it now.

Balancing a tray of delicacies that Chantay, the cook, had prepared, she knocked on the door.

Soft footsteps crossed the room, and the door opened. The duchess's blue eyes widened when she saw Ahsoka, and she stepped aside.

If it hadn't been for the overwhelming grief that filled the room, Ahsoka wouldn't have been able to tell at a glance that the Duchess was mourning. Her skin was a shade paler, and there were dark circles under her eyes, but that was just from being inside all the time.

When she realized that the woman didn't seem inclined to speak to her, Ahsoka set down the platter on the table. "I brought you these. Tera said you hadn't been eating, so I thought I would find out why."

The Duchess ignored the food, settling back on her bed. "It is the custom of my people to fast for the last week of mourning."

Ah, so she was fasting. Ahsoka looked at the woman's slim figure skeptically. "Do you think that's healthy?"

She stiffened, her eyes cold. "Why would you say that?"

"I'm just saying, you haven't been eating much as it is," she explained. "It may not be best to refuse to eat in your… weakened… state."

"I understand exactly what you are saying," Satine said coldly. "Now, if you will excuse me, my lady…"

Surreptitiously, she tried to read the Duchess's mind, only to find nearly impenetrable walls surrounding everything except the anger directed at her.

So, she nodded and left the room.

* * *

Darkness had settled, and Padmé was just drifting off to sleep when she heard it.

Same as every night, the sound of the Master moving around quietly roused her. The door opened and closed, and footsteps came through the window.

Quietly, she pulled on her cape and padded barefoot out of the room and down the stairs. Two pallets were laid out on the floor, and the remaining guard occupied one, wearing nothing but his underwear as he snored softly. The Master's pallet, however, was empty,

Careful not to wake the sleeper, Padmé pushed open the door and stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind her. Already, the Master was out of sight, but she could see the tower like house, beckoning to her.

As she crept through the village, feeling remarkably like a spy, Padmé's thoughts drifted to Anakin. Funny, she had been so preoccupied for the past few days that she hadn't taken a moment out to mourn him like she usually did.

Once again, she tried to picture him in her mind. And couldn't. She remember that he had been tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes, but that was it. His face remained elusive.

She paused as panic overtook her. The dreaded day had come.

She was forgetting Anakin.

Desperately, she tried to remember him calling her angel. But now, it was the Master whispering it against her neck, his warm, velvety lips pressed against her skin. His big hands clamped around her waist, holding her against his firm chest. Unbidden, the familiar heat rose.

Padmé bit back a whimper. For the past week, the Master had been teasing her. Peppering her face and neck with hot kisses. Trailing his fingers down, but not quite far enough. Whispering dirty words in her ear. Yet, whenever she tried to go further, he pushed her away.

She knew he wanted her, or at least she hoped so. His actions seemed to reflect an attraction as strong as her own, and she was certain she had once been able to feel the proof of his need. But whenever her lips came too close to his, or her hands somehow found their way onto him, he always pulled away. Teasing, always teasing.

Perhaps he knew that she would have to see what was beneath the hood, and wasn't ready for it yet. Hadn't that been what Satine had said?

"What are you doing out here, my pet?" Familiar hands clasped her waist as his lips found her neck. "You should be in bed."

Padmé gripped his hand tightly as her senses were flooded with his presence. "You left."

He hummed noncommitally, nuzzling the skin behind her ear. "You shouldn't be alone out here, at night," he murmured softly. "Some man with very little self restraint may decide to have his way with you."

A sound that was suspiciously close to a moan fell from her lips as her breath grew short. "What… what if I… I want him to… have his way with me?" She managed to gasp out as his glove somehow slipped under the him of her tunic, the cold leather only serving to add to the raging flames of desire warring in her.

He swore harshly. "You're intent on stretching my resolve to it's limit, aren't you?"

"No," she rasped, hoping her voice reflected her need. "Only on breaking it."

Before she could blink, he had her pinned to the side of the building she'd been hiding behind. His lips hovered dangerously close to her own, their erratic breaths mingling.

The desire to see his face had never been so strong. Would his eyes have darkened with desire? His face flushed? His hair tousle as she drove her fingers through it?

She whimpered softly as his lips just brushed hers, teasing. "I want to taste you again, pet."

Again? He'd never, to her great dismay, kissed her before. "I want to see your face."

He stiffened. "Will you let me kiss you?"

"Yes!"

A hand beside her head moved, and she resisted the urge to voice her triumph. Finally, finally she was going to see him, and he was going to kiss her. Just…

"Master, Ami is…" the guard drew up short, his eyes focusing on her. "Missing."

The Master growled softly, and he took a step back. "She was with me. But here." he stepped away, leaving her feeling cold and bereft. "take her and put her to bed. I've kept her long enough."

Frustration mixed with the still raging desire. "Master," she whined, taking a step closer to him.

He smiled tightly, kissing her forehead. "Go with him, pet. I'm just going to swim in the lake first."

"But Master, the water's absolutely freezing this time of… oh." The guard looked between the two of them, blinking. "Oh."

She smiled up at him, trailing her fingers down the front of his tunic. "Are you sure you don't want company?"

He shook his head. "Go, before I change my mind."

If only he would.

* * *

 **Ah, I think Padmé's finally breaking him, don't you?**

 **Shoutout to ShatteredNights, black velvet, sunmoonwindandstars, and Saira-Blue for following and favorites, you guys are the best!**

 **MumsieDo: Yep, our little boy's growing up. I think this chapter answered at least some of your questions.**

 **JoieMaris: thank you! I was worrying I was going to quickly, so your review was really appreciated!**

 **stingerfan: Just to let you know, there was an unwritten scene from that morning between them, but I thought it gave away too much. Don't worry, I'll probably go back to it later.**

 **Jadaerys: Thank you!**

 **sunmoonwindandstars: your review was one of my favorites. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thank you for your extensive support!**

 **Trivia: Origially, Obi never 'died** '


	11. Chapter Ten: Reveal

"Ami, you like?"

Padmé took what had to be the twentieth glass of wine offered to her and sipped it. And, as with every one of the twenty glasses she had already tasted, her eyes widened at the flavor. "Master, you must taste this."

And just like every other of the twenty glasses, he obliged her. "It is good," he acknowledged. "But then, they all are."

The keepers beamed at them. They were at their last stop, the wine country, and the people had been eager to offer her their best.

Now, just the slightest bit tipsy and full of the delicious dinner that had been served them, the two lounged with the villagers in the large hall.

Of all of the provinces, with their different ways and traditions, this was the most different. Instead of the typical villages situated throughout the province, the Wine country had half a dozen large mansions, where all of the people lived and worked together. Each one consisted of the vineyard patriarch, his wife, his sons and their wives, their sons and their wives, and so on. Though, being as old as they were, none of the original vinedressers were still alive, and the houses were governed by their sons and grandsons.

They had arrived only a half hour before those working in the vineyard had come in, and had been able to see the genial comeradery shared by the people. While the other Ehren were tolerably friendly to one another, it was easy to see these were a family.

"You like, Ami?"

She was just about to taste her twenty-first glass when the Master pulled it away from her lips. "I think that's enough for tonight."

Padmé pouted, reaching for the glass. "Just this one."

"No, pet. You're already drunk enough."

"Am not!" She squeaked indignantly. "I am no light weight."

He gave her the familiar amused smile. "I never said you were, but even a Jedi would be tipsy after thirty glasses of wine."

She scrunched up her eyebrows. Had it been thirty? "I only took sips."

"Thirty sips, which is equivalent to approximately six glasses." He shook his head, handing the glass back to the vinedresser. "No more."

She reached for her other glass. "Stingy."

He chuckled, pulling her into his lap and gently prying her fingers off of the glass. "You just won't listen, will you?"

"I don't want to offend them," she muttered, eyeing the ruby liquid just out of her reach. "They want to know what I think."

"Not if it means getting you drunk," he replied, burying his face in her curls as he often did whenever they were in this position. "Don't worry, you'll thank me in the morning."

She squirmed into a more comfortable position on his lap, rolling onto her stomach so she could see him. Then, she gave him the best puppy dog eyes she could muster.

He swore softly. "Pet, don't… kriff, stop looking at me like that." He was caving, and she could see it. "Padmé, please."

"Just one glass?"

To his credit, he tried to turn away from her, but she pulled his own trick on him, bringing her fingers up to trace his lips. "I'll give you a taste."

He shuddered softly, caving to her touch. "Temptress," he retorted, his voice hoarse. "Didn't I tell you not to play with fire?"

The slow, familiar burn was back, and for the umpteenth time since she had met him, Padmé was ready to give herself to the unrelenting fire set by his words. Perhaps it was the wine, or the fact that the villagers had surreptitiously deserted them, or that she was straddling him, or perhaps it was his wine stained lips that seemed even more full than usual, or that he had been teasing her unrelentingly for the past few weeks, or maybe it was a combination of all of those things.

Whatever it was, she was tired of the games; tired of the teasing; tired of lying in bed alone at night, a bundle of need and desire. Tired of the torture.

Silencing the voices in her head that told her that this was a bad idea, that she didn't even know him, that she and Satine would be going home in only a few weeks, Padmé leaned over and kissed him.

He responded almost immediately, the kiss slow and lazy. His hands burrowed into her hair as he sagged back, pulling her up with him.

When he slowly pulled away, disappointment coursed through her. Then, he was back again, his lips impossibly soft as they melded with hers in a chaos of passion. She moaned as he coaxed her mouth open, deepening the kiss and sending her into an even deeper spiral of desire.

If she had thought that she wanted him before, the need had multiplied. She whimpered as one of his hands slid down her bare back, setting the skin on fire. The leather glove settled on her side, his thumb gently stroking maddeningly near her breast.

He dragged his mouth away from hers, latching onto her neck before she could bemoan the loss. Padmé sent up a prayer to the seven goddesses and the Force that he wouldn't stop.

Her plaintive moans grew when he suckled at her pulse point, driving her to delirium.

Then, he stiffened, growling softly. "We have to go."

To the bedroom? Absolutely.

"No, pet, not tonight," he whispered, as if sensing her line of thoughts.

In one motion, he was standing and she was in his arms. Even in her lust induced haze, Padmé could see that something was wrong. "What is it?"

"Someone's here. You didn't hear them?"

"No. I was…" she nuzzled into his neck. "Preoccupied."

He groaned. "Kriff, Padmé."

The door flew open, and a girl rushed in. "Master, Soka say come, come quick. Something bad happened at the Capital."

* * *

Padmé gasped when she saw her.

The Duchess was lying on the clinic bed, her skin an unhealthy ashen hue. Her breathing was shallow, and her already slender figure had diminished until Padmé could see the bones in her arms and hands.

In the doorway, Soka was crying. "She wouldn't eat… I tried to get her to, but she wouldn't, Master, I'm so sorry…"

"Bring him."

Padmé glanced at him, not understanding. But he didn't look at her, instead turning back to Soka again. "Bring him now, Soka!"

"But…"

He swore, pushing past the girl. "I'll get him myself."

The togruta followed him, and Padmé took her friend's hand, tears welling up in her eyes as she felt how thin it was. Guilt flooded her as she remembered how she hadn't truly insisted on bringing Satine with her. How she had purposefully delayed their return to get more time to spend with the Master. How she…

The duchess's eyes fluttered open, the usually vibrant blue now almost grey. "Padmé?"

She tightened her grip on her hand. "Satine?"

But Satine's eyes drifted over her shoulder and brightened. She struggled to sit up. "Obi."

Padmé froze as a voice she thought she would never hear again filled the small room. "Hello, love."

"No, you can't be… you're dead." The duchess's face crumpled and she sagged back.

"Our apologies, Your Grace," Soka said. "We didn't learn that Master Kenobi was alive until you had been here for a few days. Even then, we were doubtful he would survive for awhile, due to the injuries sustained. Master thought it would be wiser to make sure he recovered before informing you, just in case something went wrong."

Obi-Wan sat on the edge of the mattress, frowned. "You said they knew I was alive."

The togruta shifted uncomfortably. "We didn't want to impede your recovery. Master was intending to inform the Duchess and Senator of your existence as soon as you were fully recovered, but Ami… that is, Padmé, had already promised the people that she would travel to see them. And as he was certain she would want to see you at the same time as the Duchess, he decided to postpone your… er… unveiling, so to speak." She grimaced. "As you can see, though, things didn't go quite as we expected it."

Padmé blinked, still unsure of what was going on. "So… why is Satine sick?"

Soka pinned the Duchess with an accusatory look. "She was fasting for her mourning ritual. Her already weakened body couldn't take it, which I told her. She wouldn't listen to me." She scoffed. "Apparently, it was some fool tradition for her people to spend their last week of mourning starving themselves."

"Foolish woman," Obi-Wan muttered softly, looking fondly at the woman resting in his arms.

The togruta snorted. "I guess that's what love does to you, huh?"

The Master gently tugged on her lekku. "We'd better move along, Snips. Let them talk."

"Wait." Obi-Wan's eyes focused on the Master, his head tilting slightly to the side. "Do I know you?"

The Master froze, his lips parting slightly as his face paled. "Yes," he said slowly, his voice seemingly tighter than usual. "We met a few times, though I doubt you would know me now."

The Jedi's brow furrowed. "I don't understand…"

"It's probably better that way." Crossing the room quickly, he planted a kiss on Padmé's head. "I'll be in my room, when you finish."

She watched in confusion as he stormed out of the room, dragging Soka out behind him.

"What the hell was that?" Obi-Wan demanded. "What did I miss?"

Satine exhaled deeply. "After you… The Master's men found us, brought us here. Apparently, he's been in exile here for nearly half a decade. He says he knew you and Padme, but something…" she bit her lip. "Something happened, and he's been here ever since."

Padmé shot her friend a glare. "I knew you'd been talking to him behind my back! What else did he tell you, the sneaky bastard?"

A light laugh fell from the duchess's lips. "You have no need to be jealous, Padmé. He's utterly infatuated with you. Force, I've never seen a man so lovesick in my life."

Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed. "I still feel like I'm missing something."

"The Master is a man hopelessly in…"

The door slid open, and Soka stepped in, carrying Obi-Wan's lightsaber, robe, and a familiar wooden box. "Here, duchess. Master said you would want this, and to stop repeating confidential things if you don't want your dirty laundry aired in front of the Senator." Satine frowned. "Oh, and he said Master Kenobi might be interested in the box."

Padmé herself was very much interested in the box, which had seemed to disappear after that night. What she was more interested in, though, was what Satine had been about to say before the girl came in. "Thank you, Soka. Please inform Acca that she may return to the village, for I will not be occupying my room tonight. Oh, and tell the Master I might be a little late coming to him." She turned back to her friends. "I think we have quite a bit of catching up to do."

* * *

0bi-Wan listened in silence as Satine and Padmé related the events that had occured since the crash, and Padmé tell of their trip.

By the time she had finished, Satine looked disappointed. "Are you telling me that after all that, he ignored you for the whole trip?"

Padmé squirmed. "He's not a very talkative person."

"Not very…" Satine's eyes narrowed. "Padmé, did you sleep with him?"

Her face went crimson. "No."

He raised an eyebrow at the disappointment in her voice. "But you wanted to?"

She groaned. "I am not talking to you about this, Mister 'Master of Celibacy'."

"Satine's no better," he defended. "And you're someone to talk. You have virgin written all across you."

Padmé rolled her eyes. "For one, Satine is a woman experienced in the art of love making. You, on the other hand, are just as much of a virgin as I. Force knows you're too prudish to even kiss a girl, let alone do a horizontal tango with one."

Satine choked on her water, and he rubbed her back as she hacked it out of her system. "I don't think our Obi is as innocent as that," she said hoarsely.

"Oh, yes he is. Ani told me so. He's an incorrigible flirt, but he'd no sooner take a woman to bed than shave that force-forsaken beard off."

He chuckled softly. "That's where he was wrong. I've had my fair number of women, I'm sure. I simply was more discreet than many of the others."

Satine pulled away from him slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Indeed? Exactly how many, pray tell?"

"One, actually."

Padmé laughed. "A philanderer in all of his vain glory," she teased. "May we know who it was?"

Satine stiffened, then relaxed when he replied easily, "I'd rather not spoil the girl's reputation."

"So I know her, then?" The Senator's eyes sparkled. "Sabe, then. She always had a thing for you."

He snorted. "All of your handmaidens seemed to have had 'a thing' for me, as you so elegantly put it." He shifted so his back was against the wall, adjusting Satine accordingly. "As you did yourself, if I remember correctly."

Her cheeks reddened. "I was fourteen. Any girl would have had a crush on you."

"Satine did, I know." He smiled as she gave him a warning look. "She tried her best not to show it, but I do believe that she was utterly…"

"So you didn't have amorous congress, though you wanted to," Satine said, quickly changing the subject. "What did you do, then? From what you've said, I would think you simply rode from village to village, talked to the people, and slept in different rooms. Yet, you're frustrated that you didn't ever get in bed together."

Padmé shifted. "That's the gist of it, yes."

Satine's eyes narrowed. "Then what happened before he left… the kiss, the 'meet me in my room', etc., etc.… had absolutely nothing to do with the past two weeks."

She blushed. "I… we… I wasn't lying about the sleeping arrangements. I asked him to stay with me one night, and he refused. I don't know why he changed his mind now." She winced. "I may have left out that he seems to enjoy seducing me, though he never wants to follow through on his actions or words."

"What do you mean?" Satine asked in interest.

"He would… touch me… and say what he would want to do with me in bed," she admitted, her cheeks red. "But then he would send me to bed as if I was a child, and leave."

Obi-Wan frowned. "He had no right to violate you like that. You should stay away from him, Padmé, before he does decide to take you to bed and ruins you."

"But what if I want him to?"

He shook his head. "You don't know what you're saying. What would Anakin…"

She jumped to her feet. "Don't, Obi-Wan. He's gone." Her eyes filled. "He's gone, Obi-Wan, and he's not coming back. Yes, I loved him, and I took pleasure in the fact that he loved me. Somewhere, deep inside, I still love him. I don't think I'll ever stop loving him, but I'm not going to spend the rest of my life living in the past. Anakin may be dead, but I'm not, and I don't want to forever regret that I never got a chance to experience that something more."

* * *

Keri panted hard as he ran into the village. Behind him, his companions called his name, likely curious over his sudden departure. He wanted to pause, to show them the small, cylindrical metal object he had found. But the Master's orders had been clear.

His lungs burned as he nearly slipped on the gravel streets of the village. From all sides, people were calling out to him, asking what was causing him to behave like a mad tonglu. He ignored them, sharpening his focus on the tall tower like building in the center of the village.

Finally, he was at the door, and he pounded on the wooden barrier, gasping for breath. Footsteps sounded inside the communication tower, and the door opened.

Trada blinked up at him, her eyes wide in wonder. "Keri, what is it?"

"Speak… Master… urgent," he managed to gasp out, eyeing the comm unit in it's designated spot. "Ami… wreck… not an accident…"

* * *

 **Sorry for the short chapter, but I had to cut it off here. Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Shoutouts to Elroon, caripr94, taleoftwoherondales, and lxghtsxbers for follows!**

 **sunmoonwindandstars: hahaha, I loved your review! I don't know if I answered any of your questions, though…**

 **JoieMaris: Good insight, I'm glad you caught that.**

 **Rambling anOn: Aah, you're back! You're close on the Palpatine theory.**

 **MumsieDo: Is it just me or is everyone extremely angry at poor ole Palps? As usual, I hope I answered some of your questions, though I think most will have to wait until the next chapter *hint, hint*.**

 **A/N: Updates might be a little slow, as I've taken a summer job and it's taking up quite a bit of my time. I will continue to try my best to have weekly uploads, though, but be patient with me.**

 **Trivia: The trio were originally stranded on Ehren because of a snowstorm.**


	12. Chapter Eleven: Suspicioun

It wasn't until a week later that he had had some time alone with her.

The morning after the big reveal, Snips gave Obi-Wan leave to enter the palace proper. Apparently, he had been being kept underground, in what he supposed was equivalent to the palace dudgeon. But now, he was allowed to roam as long as he didn't leave the grounds without supervision.

Contrary to his hopes, the Master had seemed to disappear that night, having been 'called away' on urgent business. In his absence, Padmé plunged herself in the duties of ruling, her usual reaction to sorrow. He itched to touch her mind, to see how deep her infatuation with this man was, but the force suppression cuffs remained firmly clamped around his wrists. Satine, however, seemed to understand her friend's silence, eyeing her at meals with concern.

It was more than a little uncomfortable, dining in Satine's clinic room with Snips watching their every move. The togruta seemed to understand the need for privacy, and did her very best to thwart it.

But, five days later, when Satine had been settled back in her own room, the girl had seemed to remember some task the master had asked her to complete, and she had left them alone.

For a minute, they sat there in silence, watching each other. A myriad of emotions flitted across her face before she finally broke down, throwing herself at him and clinging tightly to his tunic. "I missed you."

He rested his face in the crevice of her neck, inhaling deeply. "I've missed you for the past fifteen years."

She sobbed. "You didn't stay."

"You didn't ask me to."

"I shouldn't have had to."

He chuckled, but the humor was absent. "You know you wanted me to choose for myself."

"And I never loved you less for going back." She laughed bitterly. "Force knows I only loved you more."

"They shouldn't have lied to you."

She shook her head. "They did what they thought was right."

He pulled back. "Do you honestly believe that?"

"Yes." Her eyes widened slightly. "You don't?"

"Hasn't it occured to you at all that something's off about this?" He asked. "We were shot down on a planet where we were magically 'rescued' by a man you say yourself has an obsession with Padmé. I conveniently disappear and am imprisoned, only being released when his prime source for information is sick from grief. Does nothing about that seem suspicious?"

She hesitated. "You don't know the full story, Obi."

He scoffed. "And I suppose you do?"

A hurt look crossed her face. "There's no need to speak to me like that," she said softly. "He talked to me, Obi, and I've never seen a man so in love. I think… he was falsely accused for a crime, and Padmé believed it. He couldn't bear that he disappointed her, so he came here, to get away from everything. Yes, he worships the ground she treads on, but doesn't all love come with some level of obsession?"

"Obsessive enough to shoot her down out of the sky, yes." He narrowed his eyes. "Does no one question him on what his real name is? How exactly he knows Padmé? Why he has not come forward with an apology yet?"

"He's trying to win her, Obi. Show her that he's not who she thought him to be."

"And he told you all this? Why?"

She sighed, standing. "He wasn't expecting me. He thought it was to be just you and her. When he realized I had not the slightest idea who he was, he opened up to me. I didn't trust him either, but he spoke of you and Anakin so familiarly that I knew he could not have been lying."

"What did he say about us?"

"Oh, that you had a thing for blondes, that Anakin was a mischief maker, that you were so damned dedicated to your life as a Jedi that you never seemed to have time for anything else." She raised an eyebrow. "By the way, who is Siri?"

Obi-Wan ignored her question. "What all did he tell you?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"She's a friend. What did he tell you?"

She straightened, looking away. "It's not my place to tell."

He clenched his teeth. "Satine…"

"Don't, Obi-Wan." She scooted to the other end of the bed, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. "I may not understand everything the Master does, but I do know that Padmé is the luckiest woman in the galaxy to have a man look at her like he does."

He was just about to offer a retort when the door slid open.

The Master hesitated. "Oh, duchess, I didn't know you had company."

Almost immediately, the scowl returned to her face. "Actually, he was just leaving." She stood, giving him a pointed look. "Weren't you, Obi-Wan?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Was I? I don't seem to remember that. You'll have to forgive me, I'm still suffering from some slight amnesia from the crash." The Master stiffened, and he knew he'd struck a chord. "You should be happy you didn't suffer any lasting injuries, as should Padmé. Falling from such a height could have really caused some permanent damage."

"If you're insinuating that I was the one to put Padmé in danger, then you're wrong." He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small, silver cylinder. "This is your culprit."

A detonator.

"Where did you get this from?" Obi-Wan demanded, taking the small device cautiously.

"My men found it among the wreckage, among fragments of several others. This one was faulty; their was a short in the wire that inhibited it from going off. However." He produced a datapad from his cloak. "I was able to hack into the programming and get a basic knowledge of it's programmer, seeing as it had to be manually set for such an elaborate scheme."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow when he saw the hasty scrawl that surrounded intricately detailed sketches. "It's impossible that this is in Basic."

The man flinched. "Sorry, Master." He coughed. "Kenobi."

A feeling of deja vu settled over him, but he shook it off, squinting at the nuna footprints that was the Master's words. "Is that an osk or a xesh?"

"Wha… here, let me do this…" a gloved hand took the pad from him, and the man bit his lip as he erased the words and painstakingly rewrote them, this time more legible. "There."

The way he thrust the pad into his hands, almost petulantly, reminded him of Anakin whenever he had been corrected. He frowned as that now familiar sense of deja vu settled on him. "You say we've met before?"

A strangled sound came from the hood. "It was a long time ago."

He grunted, concentrating on the datapad. The diagrams were very intricately detailed, though the writing was still sloppy. Obi-Wan glanced at him. "You seem to have extensive knowledge on how these things work."

"Uh… yeah, I guess." He fiddled with the clasp of first one glove, then the other.

"Stop that. It's distracting."

"Yes, Master. Sorry, Master." His fist clenched. "Kenobi. Are you done yet?"

"No."

He groaned, idly picking up a partially decimated datapad off of Satine's table. Obi-Wan couldn't help but watch as the device was quickly separated, reconnected, and put back together.

Once it was in one piece again, he turned it on.

Satine stared at it in wonder. "Amazing. I thought it was thoroughly ruined."

As if sensing his gaze, the Master hesitated. "No. The wire had simply come loose." He set the device back on the table, his hands clenching and unclenching. "Are you done with that yet?" He demanded.

"Almost."

He scoffed. "You have got to be the slowest reader in the galaxy." He crossed his arms. "Duchess, may I speak to you? In private?"

"I don't think…" Obi-Wan began.

"Of course." Satine pinned him with a cold look. "Don't follow us."

He narrowed his eyes. "I wouldn't dream of it, Your Grace."

* * *

Not surprisingly, he led her to 'the room of a thousand fountains', as she fondly referred to the gardens. Sitting down gingerly at the edge of the pool, she stuck her feet in, relishing in the cool liquid flowing around her feet.

"Satine…"

"You could have told me, Anakin."

He sighed, sitting down beside her. "How long have you known?"

"The night you and Padmé came back, I began to suspect, but it wasn't until I saw the way you and Obi were with each other that I knew." She swore softly as the clasp on her dress caught. "I think I knew, subconsciously, since the first time you found me here."

"You didn't say anything."

"It wasn't my place." Setting the silky garment aside, she slipped into the pool, gasping softly as the cold water closed around her. "I thought you might want to tell them yourself."

"If he doesn't already from my blunders, he will soon." He chuckled nervously. "Padmé, on the other hand…"

She rolled over onto her back so she could look at him. "Why did you do it?"

"I was angry. I wanted to punish her, I suppose." The grin disappeared as swiftly as it came. "She didn't love me. She didn't say it, of course, but I knew she had plans for her future, plans that had no room for me. I was willing to give up everything for her, but she said she wouldn't let me, that I had a life in front of me. In a way, I think it was more for her than for me. She knew I wouldn't have been able to give her the life she wanted, if she gave up everything to be with me.

"She never told you, but she offered me sex, a night in her bed, since she couldn't do a relationship. It was all about her; her career, her reputation, her life, her friends, her pleasure." His eyes darkened, and Satine could see the anger still sparking in them. "I'd like to say she honestly believed that attraction was all that I felt for her, but I know that isn't true. I put everything I had out there, and she… she tried to use it for herself. A night with a Jedi, how many women wanted that.

"She told me to meet her in her room in a half hour, as if it was just an appointment. A block of time on her schedule, to rid me of my schoolboyish crush and give her pleasure."

Of course Padmé had left out that point. It would have explained much. "You never went."

He shook his head. "I stole a ship and was in hyperspace before she would have realized I wasn't coming."

The story was slowly forming in Satine's mind. "But why fake your death?"

"I got stuck in the outer rim for two weeks. By the time I got back, I was willing to forget what had happened and talk to her again." His eyes clouded. "I went to her apartment, and was about to go in when I saw her… embracing… a Jedi who had been sent to replace me."

Pity was quick to form. "Oh, Anakin…"

"I went to the temple, made sure they would know it was me, and stole a captured seperatist ship. Found a dead guy in the underbelly, dressed him up as me, slathered some of my blood on him." He shrugged. "Took another ship and just flew until I nearly ran out of fuel and landed here. You know the rest."

She did, from Acca's tale. "But… it's been three years. You told me it was five since you had left."

"Ehren's year is much shorter than the galactic standard."

"Convenient."

"Yes."

Satine floated in silence for a moment, letting her gaze go to the transparisteel ceiling. "You based this off of the room of a thousand fountains, didn't you?"

"I did. Have you ever seen it?"

"Never, but Obi would speak of it sometimes, and this is what I expected it to look like." She glanced at him. "He cried, you know."

He shook his head. "Master never cries."

"I swear, he did. I arrived at Padmé's apartment only a few minutes after they found out about your…" she hesitated. "Supposed death."

The Master- Anakin- swallowed. "I was selfish. Master never seemed to feel anything, so I didn't even think about him being affected. I didn't realize how bad he had taken it until nearly a year later when I found out about him being suspended from active duty. By then, it was too late. The people were just getting back on their feet, and I knew I couldn't leave them."

"So you waited here, for the day that you would be able to bring Padmé here and… what was your plan going to be, if you weren't the one to orchestrate our crash?"

"I planned to appeal to her for guidance on how to guide the people," he explained simply. "I wouldn't have been the first to ask for her assistance in the matter of governmental matters. I will not deny, though, that your unplanned arrival was not an unwelcome change of plans."

"But if you love her…"

He scoffed, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You are entirely too romantic, Duchess. Can you not see?"

A feeling of raw horror filled her. "This isn't about love. You're doing all this for revenge."

"How you ever thought love was a part of this, I will never know." His eyes hardened. "Padmé got what she wanted, and the foolish affection I felt for her is gone. She effectively murdered that when she chose my body over my heart." His low chuckle was devoid of humor, bordering on evil. "Now, she will understand what I felt. Then, and only then, will she finally see what's under the hood."

* * *

 **Whew, short chapter, but a lot revealed! Is anyone else angry at Master?**

 **So, it's been called to my attention by an exterior source that there is too much Obitine in this story, and I should keep the focus on the Master and Padmé. What do you think, readers? Should I save all of my non-essential Obi and Satine moments for another story (don't worry, that's coming regardless)? Or do we keep on as we are?**

 **Thanks to twm2002, MugglebornJedi, sharkjustin, Quasar2017, Nister, Sierra107, and Jxjxjxjx for follows and favorites! You guys rock!**

 **MumsieDo: I feel like a lot of your questions were answered, though more were probably spawned in their place. Thank you for being so supportive, as this job will allow me to get a computer so I can put out chapters sooner.**

 **tacker23: You asked for a reveal, you got one!**

 **stingerfan: don't worry, I haven't forgotten about the Skywalker matron, but it might be a while before we get to her.**

 **sunmoonwindandstars: you're ride, Palpy is never good news. He deserves to burn in all seven Sith hells, though it seems as if Anakin almost deserves whatever punishment he gets right now.**

 **Rambling anOn: ah, I don't think even you foresaw this chapter. I have to admit, it came as a surprise to me as well.**

 **Trivia: the Master originally was supposed to tell Padmé to call him 'Dante' (don't ask me why!)**


	13. Chapter Twelve: Ultimatum

Satine didn't tell them.

It wasn't as if she hadn't wanted to, but the Master- Anakin- had been sure to remind her that he should be the one to tell her.

So, she had stayed quiet. After all, there was only three more weeks before the Master would give them permission to leave.

If Padmé still would. It hadn't taken Satine long to realize that her friend was becoming less and less enthusiastic about their impending departure. In fact, Padmé was seeming almost upset about it.

Every morning, the Senator would go to her office that the Master had given her and take care of whatever matters brought before her. She negotiated peace treaties between the different provinces, established land boundaries, made set trade rates. In the evenings, she would go to the village and sit in on the Basic classes that Soka taught, trying to grasp the language.

His actions were clearer, now. At meals and after dinner, she could only watch helplessly as he drove her to madness. Padmé wanted him, and he did everything to further that need. Every night, he would call her to him, only to leave at the last minute.

He loved her, still, that Satine knew. But his love had been tainted by Padmé's careless actions. Though she tried to reason with him, show him that by revenge he was being as cruel as she, he persisted. He would gain his revenge, and in doing so, show her all that she had missed.

A sinister scheme, with so many flaws. The largest being that, despite all his protestations, he still loved her.

It was one of the only things holding her back from telling. He had planned everything as a way of getting revenge, but hadn't allowed for the fact that he still cared for her. He had even confessed to using the force to dampen the pain of Obi-Wan's death to keep her from being upset. In the midst of the pain he wanted to cause her, he also wanted her to be happy.

Satine sighed, feeling guilty all over again. Perhaps Anakin was right, and she was just a hopeless romantic. Why else would she keep his secret, than because she honestly wanted them to recognize their undying love for each other?

Of course, if Obi-Wan was talking to her, she could tell him. But, alas, he wasn't.

Even if she was willing to divulge the Master's secret, it wasn't as if Padmé gave her the chance. The woman had barely spoken to her since the night they had returned. Her replies were always short, her explanations evasive. Her schedule grew busier as she settled into the position of ruling a planet, and she spent all her free time in her room, or by the Master's side.

His watch over her had increased, an there was rarely a moment when he wasn't by her side. Satine wouldn't have been surprised if he was wary that she was going to tell her.

She should tell her. After all, Padmé was her friend. She didn't deserve to be hurt in this way.

Unless she did.

It had been more than a little shocking to think of what Padmé had done to him. From what she had gathered from Obi-Wan, Anakin had been hopelessly in love with Padmé from the time he was ten, and would have been happy to love her for the rest of his life.

And Padmé had offered him a tumble between the sheets.

In a way, she understood it, as it also sickened her. She attempted to compare it to her and Obi-Wan, and could not fathom the idea. How would he have reacted if she had turned down his offer of love and asked him to join her in bed in the same breath? For that matter, how would she have felt?

Knowing her, Satine might have kneed him in the groin before setting him on fire.

Very mature.

So, no, she couldn't blame him for being angry, or wishing for revenge.

But returning the favor?

Now that was cruel.

She supposed she could take comfort in the fact that he wasn't trying to make her fall in love with him. It seemed more of a pride thing.

Padmé had been so fixated on what he couldn't offer that she had mocked what he did.

So now he was giving her everything she wanted. Riches, an extensive wardrobe, a palace, a job doing what she loved best, a people to call her own.

Everything, except for the one thing she had rejected.

One week. If he didn't tell her in a week, she would take matters into her own hands.

* * *

Obi-Wan still couldn't figure out who the Master was. He was familiar, sometimes achingly so, but his face, his name remained elusive.

Had he been a Jedi? He scoured his memory for any padawans or nights who might have left five years prior, but came up empty.

Every evening, just before dinner, the Master came to the library where Obi-Wan spent his days. With the information he had managed to extract from the detonator, they had been attempting to find who was behind the attack.

So far, he had met with virtually no success.

"Find anything new?"

Obi-Wan rotated the star chart he had been inspecting for the past few hours. "I managed to narrow down the original location from the galaxy to just under five hundred systems, if you consider tha progress." He sighed, running a hand over his face. "Because there is no way I can access the holonet, it's impossible for me to analyze it on planet, unless I manually look at every single detonator ever invented. A daunting task, considering there have been millions. And I am no expert."

"There's no way to filter the results?"

"Cylindrical type is about the only thing we can say."

He frowned, picking it up. "That's nearly all of them."

"Exactly."

"What about the lettering on the side?"

"If you hadn't noticed, it's not Aurebesh." He brought up a list of scripts. "I recognize it, but it's not in your archives."

The Master took the datapad from him. "What do you mean it's not in here?"

"It's an ancient dialect, the language of a group of sentiments long thought to be extinct." Obi-Wan thought back on the study he had done. "Because of the potentially harmful contents that were often recorded, the Jedi Council has restricted it to a limited audience."

"Including yourself, I suppose," the Master remarked dryly.

"It was necessary for a mission."

"Then what does it say?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure. It's not translatable to Basic, so I have to assume it is either the name of a place or a person."

"So search for it."

"What part of not translatable do you not understand?"

"Oh." He ran a gloved finger down the side of the metal cylinder, tracing the symbols. "There has to be a comparability between the alphabets, right? How would you have learned it otherwise?"

"They taught me how to speak it first, then gave me the various symbols for the different words. A difficult and tedious process, honestly." Obi-Wan shrugged. "I can say it, but I would only know how to write it in their language. Proper names are almost impossible to translate, and are usually recorded orally. As is most of the records."

"Say it, then, and we can see what system or person has the nearest name."

Obi-Wan smiled. Sometimes, they Master's optimism reminded him of Anakin. "It's pronouced chro."

The Master's lips parted slightly. "But… that could be any number of places, or people!"

"How do you think I got it down to five hundred?"

"Five hun… what?"

"Not counting the people."

He sank into a chair. "This is hopeless."

"Not if I could access the archives. I would be able to search for the particular symbols."

"The atmosphere restricts any sort of connections."

He scoffed. "Of course, just like you don't have a hangar chock full of ships."

The Master froze. "How did you find out about those?"

"You should really improve your locks and surveillance system. I've been in every room in the basement."

"And you didn't tell anyone?"

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat. "I haven't found out who you are yet. Perhaps, though, there might be a reason that we should depart with all urgency?"

"No. I was just…" he trailed off, fiddling with a datapad.

"Why did you lie to them?"

"About communications or transportation? Or you?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "All of the above."

"You don't want to know."

With a chill, Obi-Wan had no doubt that he was right.

* * *

"Before you say anything, I'm still doing it."

Satine raised an eyebrow as she dried her hair. "Did I say anything?"

She didn't have to. She'd been railing on him constantly for the past week to change his mind.

"You say Padmé had the best of intentions when she did what she did, and was being entirely unselfish about the whole thing." He kicked his boots off. "I disagree." His socks quickly followed. "But people change."

Hope flared. "I know she has."

He raised an eyebrow. "We shall see. I'm willing to offer her a deal that, according to you, she can't resist. I disagree."

"What is it?"

"A ship landed today, willing to take on passengers." His blue eyes glinted. "I'll give her a choice. If she walks away from all of this today, I'll let her go. I won't make a dramatic re entry and take my revenge."

Satine cringed. "But?"

"But… if she decides that she prefers the riches of this life over the war torn galaxy, everything goes as planned."

"Anakin."

He raised an eyebrow. "What? If she is as selfless as you say, then she'll go home and take care of her people."

"If she's as selfless as I say, she'll stay to help you and your people."

"And let Naboo go through the war unguided? I think not."

He made a valid point. "It's only two weeks, though."

"Two weeks can be the difference between life and death, Duchess, as I'm sure you know." He cocked his head to the side. "Speaking of which, I'm sure you're eager to return home. Your people must be quite helpless without you."

"Korkie is ruling in my absence. Mandalore could not be in better hands."

"You have great faith in your nephew."

She nodded. "He has been training for this position his whole life. He will make a good Manda'lor when I am gone in a few years."

His eyebrows shot up. "You're dying?"

Satine nearly laughed at the alarmed look on his face, but checked herself just in time. "No. I plan on retiring when I turn forty."

"Ah. Will you and Master finally tie the knot then?"

"He's a Jedi, Anakin, of course not."

"What's that got to do with anything?" He gave her a curious look as he stuck his legs into the water. "Lots of Jedi have relationships."

She shook her head. "I wouldn't ask him to break the Code, not for something so frivolous."

He wrinkled his nose, and Satine could see the sandy haired boy Padmé had described. "But… you love him, right?"

"Of course."

"Then how is that frivolous? Love is real, tangible."

She hesitated, sitting down beside him. "Perhaps frivolous isn't the right word. I love Obi, and force knows I wish I could keep him for myself. But… there are people out there that need him more. Every day, he saves lives, lives that might have been lost if I had been selfish."

"That's not love," he stated flatly. "That's duty. Love is when you stop pretending you enjoy walking into a minefield every day and choosing to enjoy life."

Satine shook her head. "That's where you're wrong. That's possessiveness. That reckless state when everything is focused on that one person, to the point where you're willing to risk anything- including the lives of others- for them. That's not love." She swallowed. "Perhaps, if I loved Obi less, I could be more selfish. But I don't, and that's how I can let him go."

He wasn't looking at her anymore. "Would you sleep with him?"

It wasn't hard to see where the questions were coming from. "I… I don't know," she replied honestly. "I would like to say I'm not that selfish, but I can't. Refusing to ask him to stay is one thing, but if he asked to…? I don't think I'd be strong enough to refuse him."

"So you think it would be wrong."

"Knowing that he has an attachment to me? Yes."

He turned to look at her, an eyebrow raised. "So, hypothetically, if he didn't have an attachment to you, you would have no qualms about such extracurricular activities?"

"I wouldn't have sex with a man who didn't feel some affection for me, so that situation would never happen."

He smiled, looking away again. "So you condemn both of us, then."

"That you were both selfish? Yes, I would." Satine played with the edge of her robe. "You were selfish for asking her to put you above her people, and to put her above the galaxy. But, she was also wrong for offering you a night in return for love."

"And in your opinion, who outweighs the other?"

She hesitated. "You both did wrong. I can't say you were more righteous than her, nor vice versa."

"Out of curiousity, why haven't you told her?"

"I planned to. Today."

"But you've had a whole week. Why now?"

She shrugged. "I wanted to see if I could convince you to change your mind. Once I tell her, it will likely alienate you from her forever. I didn't want to have to do that, especially if I could convince you to do otherwise."

His jaw clenched. "Right, you're a pacifist. You don't believe in revenge."

"It never solves anything."

"It gives you gratification."

"I'd prefer love."

He scoffed, but the sound held more sadness than disdain. "She doesn't love me. You said yourself that she wouldn't have done what she did if she loved me."

Satine heaved an exasperated sigh. "I didn't say that."

"You thought it."

She cursed him in Mando'a. "I simply meant that if one was completely unselfish- which no one is- they would not have done what she did."

"Would you have?"

"Padmé and I are different."

"Then she shall choose for herself."

* * *

Padmé hummed softly to herself as the leaders left the room. According to her schedule, she had nearly a fifteen break before she was supposed to meet with the board of education about the new schools they wanted to be built.

The door to her office slid open and Acca stepped in, looking extremely pleased with herself. When Padmé had offered her the position as her private assistant, she had never though the girl would be so exciting about sitting outside of her door all day and keeping track of her appointments.

"Master's here to see you, Ami."

Padmé relaxed back in her chair. "Send him in."

The girl curtsied quickly and scuttled out, even as the Master strode in. "Good morning, pet."

"Master." She raised an eyebrow. "You wished to speak with me?"

He chuckled softly, and the sound sent chills down her spine. "Always the politician," he murmured softly, rounding the desk. "You have free time?"

She gasped softly as he lifted her out of her chair and settled her on his lap. "Long enough."

His lips went to her neck, but she drew away. "What is it, pet?"

"Where were you last night?"

He frowned. "Obi-Wan sent me on an errand, miserable bastard. As if he couldn't do it himself."

She shot him a glare. "Don't call him that. Even if you don't like him, he's my friend." She slid off his lap and gingerly patted her hair to make sure it was still in the proper coil Acca had helped her achieve. A lock had come down, most likely due to the single pin he held sheepishly. "Stop that. It nearly took me a half hour to get that up."

"Anytime it takes you more than five minutes, it's not worth it," he replied stubbornly. "I don't understand why you would want it up like that anyway."

"It exudes confidence and professionalism. Same as why the Leaders shave half of their heads."

"That's not a good example, pet."

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. "I don't think you came here to talk about the inconceivable notion that I might actually like wearing my hair up."

"You don't," he stated flatly.

"Master…"

"I have to tell you something."

Padmé forced a soft laugh from her throat. She felt as if a band was around her chest, and she couldn't breathe. What was wrong with her? "What is it?"

"The pilot arrived this afternoon, and he is willing to take you to a nearby system where you will be able to catch a transport."

She swallowed. "When?"

"Tonight, if you wish it. You could be on Coruscant late tomorrow."

Coruscant. The 5oo Republica. The Senate. She exhaled slowly. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes." His hand rose as if to touch her face, but stopped. "I'm sure you must be eager to return home."

Padmé looked down at her desk, and at the schedule she had so neatly laid out for the next two weeks. "Tonight?"

"Or tomorrow, if you need more time."

She sighed. "I had plans, but they can not be finished in one day. I'm to meet with the board of education and the bureau of public health about the construction of new schools and clinics today, and I'm to talk with the newly appointed board of finances about starting a sort of currency in the morning. Then, in the afternoon, the board of trustees about the construction of a government building…" she shook her head. "I have to finish the appointments I've already put down, I owe the people that much. Which puts me at… late tomorrow evening. Your pilot won't mind the delay, will he?"

"He's ready to leave whenever you commission him," he replied softly.

Padmé nodded. "Thank you. Let me speak to my colleagues to make sure that everything is in line with them, but I should have an answer by breakfast tomorrow." Voices sounded outside, and she glanced at the wall chrono before rising. "Ah, and it seems as if my break has come to an end. I'll see you at dinner, Master."

He pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers in a dizzying kiss that set her on fire. "Goodbye, pet."

* * *

 **Why do I feel like Satine's going to receive a lot of hate?**

 **Thanks to NykkiJynxx, denimleigha, My tiny baby-blue tinted world, Pthor, dkfuryan, 0Harry. 0, and NorthernLights25 for following and favoriting this story and me! You guys mean a lot!**

 **nurbb: You're right, actually.**

 **sunmoonwindandstars: hahahaha, this review cracked me up! Thank you so much for your input, and I hope you're not too mad at the Duchess.**

 **Canada Skywalker: In reply to your review on Chapter One: The Master, yes, yes he did.**

 **355: lol, you sound like a very wise force ghost.**

 **Jadaerys: thank you for your input!**

 **Jxjxjx: Thank you!**

 **Rambling an0n: honestly, I didn't expect this either. I was kind of mad at Padmé when I was writing that scene, and everything just seemed to come out!**

 **Aggiefan15: Sneaky bastard indeed…**

 **stingerfan: I think Satine agrees with you.**

 **MumsieDo: Yep, someone's going to be mad at Satine…**

 **Guest: Thank you! Although I plan to keep the Obitine on a low tone, I will not be getting rid of it completely. But I will be saving my inspiration for my next story, which will be predominantly Obitine.**

 **Jxjxjx (again): sorry, no Ani POV yet. However, I'm planning to add bonus chapters at the end with scenes in his POV.**

 **JoieMaris: thank you!**

 **My tiny baby-blue tinted world: You'll never believe it, but I was just talking about how I would love to find out you were reading my story when I got your review! Thank you so much!**

 **dkfuryan: Thanks!**

 **This makes Chapter Eleven the most reviewed chapter to date! Yay!**

 **Trivia: Acca was originally a mysterious 'little sister' sort of personage who got kicked out of the story due to a much more tedious nature.**


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Disclosure

When Padmé entered the library, she was surprised to find Obi-Wan glaring at Satine as the Duchess calmly read something on her datapad. In all of the time she had known them, the Jedi had always been nothing short of chivalrous to Satine, and even on the occasions that they argued, it was usually light, affectionate bantering.

The scowl he regarded her with now spoke of something deeper.

Satine looked up from her datapad and smiled. "Padmé, you're here. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about us," Her blue eyes held a hint of worry, and her smile was apparently forced a she straightened her skirt. "It's almost as if you've been avoiding me."

"I've been very busy," she said lightly. Truth be told, Padmé had been avoiding her. To know that her closest friend had been going behind her back and having clandestine conversations with the Master had hurt her more than she wanted to admit. Not to mention the air of secrecy that always seemed to accompany the older woman.

"Indeed," Obi-Wan said drily. "You're always busy when you're upset."

"I'm not upset."

He raised an eyebrow. "Of course you aren't, now. That's why you called for us, because you have an important decision to make and you want us to decide for you."

Was she really so readable? "Of course not. I've already made my decision, and I wished to inform you of it."

"So we may dissuade you, I presume?"

Padmé huffed. "The Master has informed me that the pilot has arrived, and we are free to depart as soon as we wish."

Satine's eyes clouded and Obi-Wan's eyebrows rose. "Really?" He asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. "We should depart tonight, then. The sooner the better."

She shook her head, trying to push away the sinking feeling inside. "I've decided we shall leave the day after tomorrow, to give me a chance to finish all of my scheduled meetings."

"Tomorrow evening, then."

"I want to hold a dinner, to apologize to the people for my sudden departure. I owe them that much."

Satine let out a long breath that sounded suspiciously relieved. "What has the Master said about it?"

Padmé bit her lip. "He understands."

Goodbye, pet.

The words had hurt her more than she wanted to admit. But what else had she wanted? She didn't love him, and he most definitely didn't love her. If he loved her, he wouldn't have wanted her to stay. He wouldn't have so eager to tell her that she was going to be able to leave. Heck, if he loved her he wouldn't hide in a hood, refuse to tell her his name, and drive her mad with want only to deny her.

All the more reason why she didn't love him. She couldn't, of course. She was still in love with Anakin, and always would be.

"Padmé?"

She started. "What?"

Obi-Wan smiled softly. "I was saying that it will be good to be back home, won't it?"

She forced a smile, hoping they wouldn't notice her lack of enthusiasm. "Well, you'll be home. I'll have to wait until I can get back to Naboo." She turned to Satine. "I'm sure you're eager get back to Mandalore."

"Yes." She looked around the room. "Though I have to admit, I will miss it here. Perhaps one day I might come back for a visit."

Padmé exhaled slowly. "Yes, we should. I spoke with some of the leaders today, and they were favorable towards the idea of establishing an official government, and want me to come back… to… train them." She swallowed. "If… if the Master will have me back."

"Of course he will, Padmé," Satine stated emphatically. "He…"

"Don't," Obi-Wan said sharply. "If you're going to lie, don't do it to her."

Satine bristled. "Don't talk to me, Kenobi," she hissed. Then, she muttered something in Mando'a which caused him to go red in the face and reply in the same tongue.

Padmé looked between the two, confused as they both became more irate. "I feel like I'm missing something."

Obi-Wan's normally neutral grey eyes had darkened to nearly cobalt blue as he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry, Padmé," he said finally. "It's been a difficult few weeks for me. The sooner we get back to Coruscant, the better."

She smiled weakly. "Right. Of course." From the look of Satine's flushed cheeks, blazing crimson against her pale cheeks, the exchange wasn't one to ask about. So, she changed the subject. "Do you think you'll take the time to visit Stewjon?"

"If the council gives me leave, yes." He shook his head. "Though that is doubtful. I've already been gone for too long… likely I will not be able to be spared after this."

"What shall you do when the war ends?" It was a recurring topic, one that floated the trio through many a dreary and depressing evening.

He smiled. "What's my limit?"

"Let's go unlimited everything. Credits, fame, love, leave… everything is accessible."

Sitting back in his chair, he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "First, I would pay off the paparazzi so I could live in privacy. Then, I would likely buy some productive estate somewhere and live the rest of my life out in solitude." He raised an eyebrow. "You?"

She shook her head. "Satine first."

The duchess sighed. "My answer doesn't change. I'd retire, buy a ship and travel the galaxy. See all the places I've always been too busy to go to."

Padmé grinned. "Find romance again?"

Satine stiffened, looking uncomfortable. "I… I…" her eyes filled suddenly, and without warning she got up and tripped out, sobbing.

Padmé started up to follow her, but Obi-Wan stopped her. "Let her go," he said softly. "She'll be fine. She always is."

Still worried, she watched the door that her friend had disappeared through. "She's hurting."

He scoffed, picking up a datapad. "Satine and hurting don't even belong in the same sentence."

"Obi-Wan!" She gave him an incredulous look. "How could you say something like that?"

His eyes darkened as he ran a hand through his hair, spiking it up. "I'm sorry, Padmé… maybe you should just go to bed. I'm afraid I'm not very sociable tonight."

She raised an eyebrow. "You know, I think I'll do that."

* * *

Normally, Satine didn't believe in proverbs. But the saying 'Misery loves company' was most definitely true.

She hadn't been surprised to find Anakin in the room of a thousand fountains. But she had been surprised to find him seemingly wallowing in despair.

A bottle of Correlian brandy sat beside him as he stared listlessly at the water. Trying her best to supress the sobs that had overtaken her, she took a seat beside him.

He looked over at her, his eyes rimmed with red. Concern flickered in the blue eyes. "Are you okay?"

She laughed, but the sound fell flat. "I should be asking that. You look like hell."

"You look worse."

She didnt doubt it. Sadly, crying did worse to women than to men. She drew in a long, shuddering breath, hugging her knees to her chest. "It's nothing."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"After you." She knew she was being selfish, but at the moment she didn't care.

He took a drink of the liquor. "You were right, you know." He smiled, but any semblance of happiness was missing. "She's going back. Going to save the galaxy, you know?"

"You love her, don't you?"

"She doesn't love me."

Satine turned to look at him, incredulous. "That woman's mourned you for the past three years, donated countless sums to a foundation she built for slaves on your behalf, hasn't stepped foot in her gorgeous lake house, has a whole room in her apartment blocked off in memorial of you, sleeps with your Jedi robes every night, and you say she doesn't love you?"

He sighed. "She doesn't love me enough."

"Enough to forgive you."

"I don't want her forgiveness. I did nothing wrong."

"You've put her through torture for the past three years. Is that not wrong?"

"She deserved it."

She let out an exasperated huff. "But when will it be enough? When will you be satisfied, your sense of justice filled? Is it not enough that she had to suffer the guilt of driving you to your death, that you have to punish her further?"

He glared at her. "Didn't you hear her? She's going home. You were right, I was wrong. Can't you just leave it at that?"

The raw hurt in his words stopped her. "Fine."

"What happened with you?"

She closed her eyes. "I thought you didn't want to talk."

"I don't want you gloating over me."

She held back a retort. "Obi's angry at me."

"Why?"

"He thinks I'm lying to him." She bit her lip at his questioning look. "I am."

"About me."

She shook her head. "No, not you. Though that might have something to do with it." Her jaw wobbled as she felt the tears rise again. "Her name was Ania. She looked just like him, red hair, blue eyes."

He sucked in a breath. "What…"

"It was a bombing. She was only two weeks old."

"I'm sorry."

She blinked. "She would have been thirteen this year."

"You never told him."

"I only commed him once. Up until the time she was born, I was afraid to tell him. But when I saw her…" she blinked rapidly. "He didn't answer. It was a little boy, maybe nine or ten."

Understanding dawned. "Me."

She nodded. "By the time you gave him the comm, I knew I couldn't tell him."

"Because of his promise."

"Yes." She looked down. "I left her on Kalevala, thinking she would be more safe. The head of Death Watch made it their headquarters a week later, and the local force bombed it, thinking to wipe them out once and for all. It wasn't their fault, they didn't know she was there, but…" she swallowed. "I should never have left her there."

"I'm sorry."

She sniffed. "So am I."

* * *

"You're still awake."

The already dark room went pitch black, and she heard soft rustling. "I was waiting for you."

A soft grunt, and the bed shifted as he, presumably, sat down. "You don't have to do this, Padmé."

"Where have you been?" She interrupted, turning over to face him.

"Walking." Soft lips touched her forehead. "You talked to your friends?"

She bit back a moan as his hands trailed up her waist. "Yes. We leave the day after tomorrow."

He pulled back. "Oh."

"What is it?" Even to herself, the words sounded too eager. Was he regretting his decision to send her away? Did he want her to stay?

"Noth… I… you said you were leaving tomorrow."

Disappointment flooded her, but she did her best to hide it. "I wanted to hold a feast for the people. To announce and explain my departure." Would he argue her decision? "You don't mind, do you?"

"No." The word was sharp, and she winced.

"If you'd rather I leave earlier, I can…" she gasped softly as he lifted her up and set her to straddle his lap. "What are you…"

"You wanted to see my face."

His hand guided hers until it met something thick and silky. Hair. She nearly laughed aloud. His hood was gone.

Carefully, she found his face. The skin was ridiculously smooth, like a baby's, and she absently wondered what he used to wash it. Her fingers tripped clumsily over his eyes, and slowed when they found a cut over one. "What…"

"It was a long time ago."

Self consciously, she leaned forward and kissed the spot. His breath quickened slightly, but he sat still as she continued her exploration.

Silently, she lamented the fact that she couldn't construct an image from what her fingers were feeling. Likenesses remained elusive as she traced the contours of his brow, his nose, his lips… Oh, seven goddesses, his lips…

At every scar she found, she paused to kiss it and whisper a word of remorse. And with every kiss, his breathing grew more and more erratic.

"Padmé…"

She shushed him gently, pressing her finger to his lips. "Don't."

He sagged beneath her, his hands restlessly going from thigh, to waist, to arms, to hair, and back down again. The gloved fingers set fire to Padmé's skin, covered only by the silk of her lingerie and nightgown.

Tracing the line of his jaw, she felt him swallow. The knowledge that she was the one doing this to him gave her a strange sense of empowerment over him, that she could do anything that she wanted with him.

And, oh, she wanted so many things.

Experimentally, she leaned down and nipped at his jaw. The helpless moan that fell from his lips lit the flame of desire already smoldering within her, and she kissed the spot gently. "You like that?"

He groaned, like a man in the desert who was being taunted with a glass of ice water. "Padmé…"

Her teeth found his ear, and tugged, eliciting a gasp. "It's a simple yes or no question, Master."

"Yes," he hissed, one hand tangling in her hair as the other slid up her thigh. "Kriff, Angel…"

"You know…" she raked her teeth across his pulse point, and an unearthly sound made it's way from his throat. "Usually I don't like it when people call me that."

He was gasping now, and she wished she could see his eyes. Would they be darkened with the same desire that encompassed her core? Or would they be deceptively calm, the only thing that hid how much her touch affected?

Gods, how she wish she knew.

"Is that what you want?"

Unbeckoned, an image of Anakin came to her mind, and she froze. He was beneath her, much as the Master was, the blue of his eyes nearly black as they fixed themselves on her face. She stared into them, not surprised by the desire in their depths, or the adoration that had dominated them for as long as she had known him.

No, what surprised her was the malice. The anger, the accusation.

The hurt.

She was back in her lake house, in her bedroom, in her bed. And he was beneath her.

That was what she had wanted, wasn't it? To maintain control, even as they both took the pleasure they so desperately wanted. All, purely physical. The simple act of two friends enjoying each other's company without putting their lives in jeopardy. That was what they both had wanted.

Right?

The question had come up to many times for her to count, in the aftermath. And always, she somehow came to the conclusion that she had been right.

He hadn't loved her enough, she'd think to herself. If he had loved her, he wouldn't have asked her to give up everything for him. After all, wasn't that how love worked?

Was it, Padmé?

But what if… what if she had been wrong? What if he had loved her? What if he had been one of the few men who wanted her for more than her body?

She began to shake, not wanting to follow that thought to it's conclusion.

"Pet?"

"I killed him." The conclusion came regardless, stabbing her with a guilt that far exceeded any other that she had felt before. "Oh, gods, I killed him…"

Strong arms circled her, reminding her that the Master was there. Quivering as waves of guilt and sorrow washed over her, she sank into his embrace. "Oh, my Ani. Ani, my poor Ani…"

* * *

 **Wow, what just happened?**

 **So, my computer has been acting very strange lately when it comes to writing, so I apologize for any glaring mistakes.**

 **Thank you, storylover1981, for favoriting this story!**

 **Writer13032005: thank you! I've decided to take your advice, and I hope you enjoyed!**

 **MumsieDo: Yes, you should!**

 **nurbb: I think so as well. She's a real romantic sweetheart with a bunch of troubles of her own.**

 **stingerfan: You're absolutely right, and I can only hope I would be so level headed as you in her situation!**

 **Ssunmoonwindandstars: loved your review! Yes, this is going to be a pretty rocky ride from here on out. Hopefully, we'll see some action next chapter! Have to wait and see where the plot bunny takes me, lol.**

 **Trivia: In the rough draft, Obi was the first to find out the Master's true identity.**


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Jedi

It did not take Padmé long to realize she did not like the pilot. At all.

Pella Tro was by far the prettiest Ehren she had seen. Tall and graceful, her silver skin was a striking contrast from her pitch black eyes and hair. Her slender curves were apparent in the form fitting dress she wore, as attractive as the seductive curl to her lips, stained blood red.

Normally, Padmé didn't feel anger towards pretty women. But seeing the woman reclining beside the Master in the throne room was enough to push her over the edge.

Thankful that her face didn't hold any traces of her breakdown the night before, Padmé gave the woman a saccharine smile before casually wrapping her arms around his waist. "Good morning, Master."

He pulled back. "Senator."

The use of her title hit her like a slap in the face, and she slowly sat back. "Is something wrong?"

"Amidala, I want you to meet Pella. She will be the one escorting you back to Togni, where you will be able to get a transport."

Pella looped her arm through his, offering Padmé a smug smile. "If you had told me, Tola, how pretty she was, I would have come sooner."

Padmé had no doubt about it. "You said the pilot was a man," she hissed accusingly.

Silver eyebrows went up. "Your Ami is very sexist, Tola. Not exactly ideal for government, I should think."

The Master put a hand on the woman's thigh and said something in the native language that made her giggle.

The unfamiliar sensation of burning hot anger and jealousy ripped through Padmé, and she stood stiffly. "I forgot, I have an early appointment that I need to prepare for."

If he had heard her, he showed no sign of it, laughing softly at something Pella had said. The woman sent her a smirk when she draped herself across him and he didn't resist her, instead whispering something in her ear and looking very much the besotted lover.

Hurt crashed across her in waves, and she forced herself to turn and walk away. To not look back. To not ask why he had gone from holding her the night before to holding a fraud of a pilot.

Acca was already waiting at her desk, turning around in circles on her chair.

Something about the carefree action made Padmé snap. "Stop that. Do I pay you to break down my furniture?"

The girl's eyes widened as she came to a stop. "I…"

"Save it. Where are my appointments?"

"Here, but…"

She scowled. "I don't want excuses, Acca, I want results." Snatching the paper, she scanned the appointments lined up. "Why is Lrantek's appointment set for 16.00? I told them 15.00. Do it over again."

"But…"

Padmé ignored her, stomping into her office only to find Satine sitting in one of the chairs. "What do you want?" She hissed.

"Padmé? What's wrong?"

The look of concern in the older woman's eyes dampened Padmé's anger, and in a rush of tears, she told her story.

* * *

"Ow!"

Satine scowled at the Master. "How could you?"

He gingerly rubbed the back of his head, his eyes fixed on the branch in her hand as expletives fell from his lips in a steady stream. She even recognized several of the Mandalorian ones. "What…"

"I helped you, you know? I never told her anything, even when I found out you were going to break her heart," she hissed. "We had a deal. If she decided to leave, you wouldn't hurt her. Yet, you kriff around with another woman, knowing she's there. What type of twisted person are you?"

"She loves me." He laughed, a maniacal sound filled with pain and bitterness. "All this time, she's been in love with me. For three years, she's believed that she did the right thing. That she was offering herself as a token for her love to me."

Satine eyed him warily, unsure of whether he was just figuring it out, if he had reverted to his evil alter ego, or if he had just gone mad.

She was betting on the third option.

He looked up at her, and she could see that his normally clear blue eyes were bloodshot and glassy. It was only then that she noticed the half empty brandy bottle in his hand, matching the empty bottle on the ground.

Anakin Skywalker was drunk.

Praying to the force to give her wisdom, she sat down beside him and gently tugged at the bottle in his hand. "What's wrong?"

"I love her."

Finally, he realized it.

"So… what's the problem?"

"She loves me."

"And?"

"I love her."

She was getting the sinking feeling that Anakin was one of those drunks who was depressed about something, but could never explain exactly what it was. "I don't think I understand what's wrong."

"She loves me!" He insisted, as if that was all that she needed to know.

"Yes, I think I got that," she said wryly. "And you love her. So what are you going to do about it?"

He made a mournful noise and took another swig of his brandy. "You know. You're omnificent."

"I think you mean omniscient, and no I'm not." Though it would really come in handy at times like these. "Anakin, tell me what's wrong. And if you say that she loves you or you love her, I swear I'll push you into this water."

"She lov…"

Satine didn't even wait for him to finish before pushing him in the water. He went under once, then bobbed back to the top, smiling blissfully. "I love her."

"Oh for the love of the force." Tugging her dress over her head, she slipped into the water and dunked him under, this time holding him there.

It was nearly a half an hour and two hundred declarations of love later that he finally seemed to be sobering up. Ignoring his protests, she dunked him under once more before finally letting him up.

He slowly climbed out, collapsing on the stone. "Kriff, woman."

She frowned, wringing out her hair. "Now what's all this nonsense about you kriffing around with the pilot?"

* * *

By the time dinner rolled around, Padmé felt drained.

With the assistance of Acca, who she had apologized profusely to, she finally managed to get ready. In honor of the people, she chose a pale green dress with gray trim, the customary clothing of a woman of her status. Alone. Unmarried. Unloved.

Sighing at the melancholiness of her thoughts, she watched as Acca braided her hair as close to one of the Ehren styles as possible. A difficult thought, considering the texture.

"Acca, what do you know of this Pella?"

"Tro?" The girl wrinkled her nose. "Very proud. Like Master much, don't care about Ami. He teach father to fly, give nice ship. Father teach Pella. Pella take Soka and Acca to Ti'or. Pella very mean to Acca, say Pella kick Acca out when Pella become Ami."

At least she wasn't alone in her dislike. "Does he like her back?"

Acca's eyes met hers in the mirror, horrified that she would even ask such a thing. "No! He like Ami. He no like Pella. Push her away when she like him."

That wasn't what she had seen in the throne room. "I see."

"There, done." The girl stepped back to admire her handiwork. "I not good, but Ami make bad pretty."

She flushed slightly, touching one of the ringlets. "I wish I had hair like you."

Acca snorted. "I not understand why. So stringy, no curls."

"Exactly. No tangles to yank out every morning."

"You no should yank. Much bad." She gave Padmé a once over, looking satisfied. "Ah, ready."

Her mood sank again at the thought of having to go out there, and she stood slowly. "I suppose I am."

* * *

Obi-Wan was just about to go into the great room when someone tugged on his sleeve. He looked back to see the togruta, biting her lip as she scanned the crowds. "I have to speak to you."

He moved out of the way of the crowd, offering one offended person an apologetic smile. "What is it?"

"No, not here." Her eyes flicked to the people. "Come with me."

Quietly, he followed her through the halls. Soon, they made it to one of the entrances, and she led him out into the rapidly falling dusk. Even in his sans-force state, Obi-Wan could sense the tension radiating off of the girl. Something about her was familiar, reminding him of someone he had met before. A little girl, following him around in the temple, her headtails barely touching her shoulders. But that togruta had been just a child, staring at him with starry eyes just like all the other younglings who entertained the thought of becoming his padawan.

What had her name been? She had been a favorite of Plo Koon's, he knew. The Jedi Master had been devistated when the girl had run away, only a few days prior to Anakin's death. They had searched far and wide for her, only to find out that she had left on a transport bound for Shili, her home planet. The idea of finding one togruta among her own was a daunting task, one that none of them had been able to take with the clone wars imminent.

A gleam through the trees caught his eye, drawing him out of his thoughts. "What…?"

Before he could finish the question, there was a quick rustle, and the familiar sound of a lightsaber being activated. In a blink, there was a line of glowing plasma at both his and the togruta's neck.

Oh, why did he always seem to get into these situations?

But then, his eyes connected to the bearer of the lightsaber and he blinked. "Luminara?"

The mirialan let out a sigh of relief before deactivating her lightsaber. Then, in a very uncharacteristic way, she wrapped her arms around him.

Slightly taken aback, he glanced over her shoulder to see Aayla Secura watching him, a slight smile on her face. "We met some villagers who said that there was a big crash, and only the two women survived. They obviously didn't know about you."

"We didn't think he had, at first," Snips explained, straightening her fingerless gloves as Luminara stepped back. "And since we already knew he was planning to leave when it became clear that he would, we never corrected the people for assuming it was just Padmé and the Duchess."

"You could have contacted us, you know," Aayla grumbled. "You had half of the Jedi temple worrying for you."

He gave her an apologetic smile. "No comm, and with these..." he held up the force suppresion cuffs. "Let's just say that contact wasn't exactly a possibility."

Luminara nodded understandingly. "We have a ship, so we can leave as soon as possible."

"Good. Our host had been so kind as to provide us with transportation to the nearest planet, so we were already prepared to leave almost immediately." He turned to the girl. "Can you tell your Master that we will no longer be in need of Ms Tro's services?"

Snips nodded, the relief clear in her eyes as she jogged away.

Luminara watched the retreating girl, her gaze thoughtful. "Obi-Wan, doesn't she remind you of someone?"

"Plo Koon's little project, you mean?" Aayla cut in.

"I thought the same thing. What was her name again?"

"Ahsoka. Ahsoka Tano." Luminara narrowed her eyes. "You don't suppose…"

Aayla shrugged. "It's possible. The only way to find out is to ask her."

* * *

Satine had just repacked her box when someone knocked on her door. Before she could answer, it slid open to reveal Obi-Wan, a twi'lek, and a Mirialan.

She glared at him, tugging her robe close. "Excuse me, Master Kenobi. I suppose waiting for an answer is beyond your reach of courtesy?"

The Mirialan raised an eyebrow. "If I didn't know what she looked like already, I would still be able to recognize her. What have you done to your Duchess, Obi-Wan?"

He ignored her. "Luminara, Aayla, the Duchess Kryze of Mandalore. Your Grace, Jedi Masters Unduli and Secura."

Jedi. They'd been found. "Masters. A pleasure."

They bowed. "The pleasure is all ours, Your Grace," the twi'lek said. "We do apologize for our tardiness, but we hope to make it up with immediate transportation back to Coruscant. Your sister and nephew were very much relieved to hear that you are alive, and will soon be with them again. Shall we tell them that you will be enjoying breakfast with them?"

Bo and Korkie. Worried about her. Wanting to see her. Tears filled her eyes. "Yes, you should."

* * *

 **I'm sorry this is such a short chapter! To make it up to you, the next chapter will be long and action packed (I hope, action isn't my strong suit, lol).**

 **Hurray! We're almost to the end of the first arc! There will likely be three, with a brief interlude between each. If this is the Ehren arc, can anyone guess what the other two will be?**

 **Thank you to Writer13032005, shezams, Cyana Shan, Batguy200, SilentChild187, and hpnarutardsjedipirate1234 for following and favoriting! You guys are great!**

 **sunmoonwindandstars: I know I promised you action in this one, but as you can see, change of plan! Don't worry, your Mega-Mess 20.0 is still coming!**

 **MumsieDo: Yes, there's tension and hurt feelings all around, but our heroes will pull through! (I hope…)**

 **stingerfan: thank you! Yes, I believe in them, too, but they've both got some obstacles to get past!**

 **tacker23: here you go!**

 **Trivia: I originally abandoned this story because of lack of inspiration.**


	16. Chapter Fifteen: The End

Padmé sat in the great room, feeling true affection for the people for the first time. She had been regaling the leaders and her political science class with stories of Coruscant for the last hour, and they gazed at her with wide eyes.

One of the women said something in the native language and Acca quickly translated. "She want to know if Ehren live there."

She nodded. "Of course. All sorts of people live on Coruscant. Humans, twi'leks, ithorian, rodians, togrutas, you name them, I'm certain they live there."

"I live there?" One boy asked eagerly.

"If you wanted, you could."

"I go live there," Acca stated. "I become senator, like Ami."

Padmé smiled at the girl. "You'll make a wonderful senator, Acca."

One of the young men who had been diligently attending every one of Padmé's impromptu political science classes frowned. "What about me? What I be?"

"You would be better suited to be a representative. You, Hono, are excellent at listening to people's problems and construing them accordingly."

That opened a whole new field of discussion. All of her students wanted to know what type of position they would be best suited to hold, and how that position was to function. They were all eager to serve their people in some capacity, a sense of patriotism that was refreshing. It also gave her a chance to better set up the government for when she left.

She would be back soon, she promised, to make sure everything would go smoothly. They asked her when, and she said a few weeks, maybe a couple of months at the most.

They all agreed that Acca and a few of the other students would go with her, to begin the process of making them a galactically recognized government. After she mentioned to them about the war, they agreed they would remain neutral. They were still recovering from their own war; they did not have the man or fire power to join another.

They were deep in a discussion on the best way to communicate off planet when the doors opened and the Master came in. All at once, conversation ceased, and everyone looked over at him. They were all curious, of course, as to why Ami was leaving him, and what he planned to do about it.

Everyone followed his gaze to the platform, where Pella was lounging, her lips curled up in a slightly drunken smirk. He frowned, looking as if he had eaten something extremely bitter as he looked away.

Then, his gaze landed on her, and she saw his lips part slightly.

Padmé could only imagine how she looked, seated among her class and the leaders. Wearing the attire of his people, as if she was one of them. As if she actually believed that this was her place, as Ami.

She hadn't done it for him, of course. She was through with him. This, this was for the people. A people that deserved to take their places in society, regardless to the insanity of their 'Master'.

They parted to let him through, but she ignored him, asking Acca how long it would take them to get packed. The girl looked back and forth between the two of them as she stuttered out an answer.

Padmé smiled. "Good. I'll speak with Ms Tro." She glanced back at the woman, who was beckoning to the Master with one slender finger. "If she's sober enough."

The Master was barely a foot away now, and Padmé smiled as she rose. "Excuse me, Master. I have a speech to give."

His mouth fell open- not like she noticed- as she pushed past him. The sight filled her with a sense of power, and if she was honest, more than a little satisfaction. Not that she cared, of course, about what he had done. This smug feeling was completely and utterly unrelated.

Hiding her smile, Padmé mounted the platform. A few hundred black eyes focused on her, more than a few full of awe.

Schooling her features into a friendlier version of the Amidala facade, Padmé began her carefully prepared speech.

"Leaders and friends, the time has come for me to depart. I have enjoyed every moment of my time here, and hope to return to you all very soon. Though I would wish to remain here with you, my people, the Naboo, need me. I will not soon forget your kindness to me and my friends, and will always treasure the many fond memories I shall take from here.

"I would like to thank all of you who work here in the palace. You have been untiring in your efforts to make sure me and my friends abide in the utmost comfort.

"Thank you to all of you who have helped me learn your language. I still have much to go, but your assistance has taken me a long way.

"Thank you to all of the leaders, who have gone above and beyond to assist me in politics and have instructed me in the way of your culture.

"Thank you to those who strived to make sure I was provided for when I visited each of you.

"Thank you to my poltical science class, who have all taken great pains in their studies, and who have made it possible for me to leave a government behind.

"Thank you to the five students that have been willing to come with me and begin the motions for Ehren to be recognized as an independent planet. You are embarking on a long, but fulfilling journey.

"And finally, thank you to you all, for accepting me as your Ami. Your support for me has been overwhelming, and I will never forget you."

Admiration shone in three hundred black eyes, and Acca grinned, offering her a thumbs up. Padmé held back a sigh of relief at the gesture, knowing that she had done well.

Acca had been the one to suggest giving the speech in the native tongue, and had translated it herself. Padmé had spent much of the day memorizing it, and had been terrified lest she forget a part.

If she had, no one made any indication as they applauded loudly.

Padmé had just finished making her rounds and giving out kisses and hugs when the people began exclaiming again. She looked up to see a group of humans, friendly smiles on their faces as they looked around the room. There were two women and three men, all clad in jumpsuits with the Republic insignia on it.

One of the women's eyes lit on Padmé, and she grinned. "Senator Amidala! It is you!"

Padmé blinked. "Yes."

She gave her an easy smile. "I'm Tre Gotri, with Republic Intelligence, and these are my colleagues. We're here to escort you back to Coruscant."

* * *

Luminara carefully inspected the cuffs on his wrists. "They're locked. Bant has tools on the ship, so she'll probably be able to get you out of it."

He sighed. "I suppose I'll have to wait, then."

Aayla, who had been relaxing on his bed, suddenly she shot up. "Do you sense something?"

"Yes." Luminara stood. "There's two of them. Coming closer."

"Who?" Blast, he hated these cuffs.

Aayla's hand went to her lightsaber. "I think we're about to find out."

He could hear the footsteps now, and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Obi-Wan?"

Padmé. He let out a sigh of relief. "Come in."

The door opened, and Padmé stepped in. When she saw Aayla and Luminara, however, she stopped, blinking. "I… didn't know you had company."

Obi-Wan felt his cheeks heat up, realizing exactly how they must look. He was seated on the bed, Luminara kneeling before him, having been just inspecting his force suppression cuffs, while Aayla was curled up behind him.

Now, the twi'lek wrapped her arms around his neck from behind and purred, "no, you're fine."

He forced his expression to stay neutral. "What is it, Padmé?"

Her eyes were questioning, but she stepped aside to reveal another woman clad in a jumpsuit. "This is Tre. She's with Republic Intelligence, and they're here to take us home."

The woman, a petite human with short, spiked black hair and green eyes, smiled. "Master Kenobi. I don't believe I ever had the pleasure."

Aayla sat up straighter. "Republic Intelligence? I didn't know they'd sent a team."

Tre stiffened. "And who are you to question my authority?" She challenged.

"Jedi Master Secura, and this is my colleague, Jedi Master Unduli." She pulled away from Obi-Wan slightly, and he saw the flash of the chrome on her lightsaber. "We've been commissioned by the Jedi High Council to find and retrieve Master Kenobi, Senator Amidala, and Duchess Kryze."

The woman relaxed slightly. "I see. The Chancellor informed us that the Jedi had sent a team, but I expected them to be more…" her eyes flicked over Aayla's attire. "Professional."

Aayla gave her a tight smile. "I understand."

Padmé looked between the two of them. "Then who is taking us home? I have five students who I have promised passage to, and I would like to keep them all with me if at all possible."

Luminara rose, brushing her hands off. "We weren't expecting any extra passengers, but I'm sure we could make everyone fit."

"Our ship is large enough to take you and your students home safely and comfortably, Senator," Tre countered. "As well as your friends."

"Thank you, Tre," Padmé replied thankfully. "My students have already left to prepare, and we should be ready to leave in, say, an hour?"

"Excellent, my lady. I'll notify the crew." She bowed to them. "Masters."

After the woman and Padmé left, Obi-Wan stood. "I don't like her."

"She's so racist," Aayla added. "You could tell she was thinking I was a prostitute."

Luminara shook her head. "I didn't sense any duplicity."

"All the same, I don't trust her." Obi-Wan frowned. "I want you to take Satine with you. If something happens, It will be hard enough for me to protect Padmé and her protoges. I'd rather not put her in danger."

Aayla grinned. "Don't worry, Kenobi. We'll take care of your Duchess."

* * *

Satine didn't like this. At all.

The very fact that Obi-Wan didn't trust the Intelligence team enough that he was sending her with the Jedi was alarming enough. But that he was going anyway…

That was inconceivable.

Of course, he was going for Padmé, which was honorable.

But the fool man had force binders on. There would be no way he could sense if anything would happen. If anything did happen- force forbid another crash- he would go down with it.

Gods, she really was becoming a melancholy old spinster.

The Master was already waiting for them by the door, along with the five students and the Intelligence team. The Intelligence team that Obi-Wan didn't trust.

Just then, the togruta came down the hall with the twi'lek Jedi, knapsack in hand. She had tears in her eyes, but her back was straight and her shoulders stiff.

Anakin's shoulders slumped when he saw her, though the action seemed to be one of more resignation than disappointment. "You're leaving, then?"

Soka nodded. "It's not personal, Master, I just…"

He smiled, pulling her into his arms. "I'm going to miss you, Snips."

The girl gave a tearful smile. "Thanks, Skyguy," she mumbled. "For everything."

"You'll come and visit me when you get leave, right?"

She nodded, pulling away and wrapping her arms around her waist. "You're always welcome to come see me, too, you know."

"We'll see." The girl's face fell, and Satine knew she understood the subtle no. "Be good, Soka."

"Yes, Master."

He patted her lekku once more before turning to Satine, sad smile still in place. "So I suppose this is the end, your grace."

"You're not going to do it." She couldn't hold back the disappointment in her voice, even as she kept it low enough so as not to let Padmé and her students hear. "You won't tell her."

His hood was pulled back slightly, and she could see the pain in his eyes. "It's better this way."

"Anakin…"

"Don't, Satine." His voice cracked, and he touched her face gently. "You've been good to me, and I'll never forget you. But please… don't argue with me on this. It's for the best."

"She's going to find out eventually, when she comes back with the students…"

He shook his head. "I won't be here. The people have someone now, and I can move on."

Sympathy welled up in her. "You can't run forever."

The sadness in his smile made her want to burst out in tears. "No. just for as long as I have to."

* * *

The sound of her students chatter was mute to Padmé's ears as she watched the Master and Satine speak.

Something about the way they stood, only a few inches apart, their attitudes dejected, made the scene seem intimate. The way he touched her cheek gently, almost reverently, and how she hugged him with tearful cheeks reflected a sense of closeness that Padmé was jealous, no matter how angry she was. The very fact that Satine was closer to the Master than she was irked her, and that he bid her such a warm farewell when he had barely had a 'milady' to offer her pricked her ire even more.

But when he pulled something out of his cloak pocket and put it in Satine's hands, with more whispered words, and a reddening of the cheeks from Satine, it was enough to make her green with envy.

Satisfied that her students were speaking among themselves and not wanting her input on their conversation, she approached the two, schooling her face into a mask of diplomacy. "Satine, I believe that we are ready to go."

The Duchess quickly tucked whatever the Master had given her into her sleeve. "Of course. Master."

"Your Grace." Satine raised an eyebrow, and he sighed, turning to her. "Have a safe journey, pet."

The endearment nearly broke the wall of self preservation she had been hiding behind for the past day.

But it didn't. "I do not appreciate sentiments that are not directed towards me, sir," she returned icily. "In the future, I hope you will not prey on vulnerable women who will fall for your petty words and cheap endearments. Especially when you find yourself more attracted to women of Ms. Tro's caliber."

His shoulders fell a little, but he offered no retort, only glancing at Satine once before backing away.

Tre suddenly appeared beside her. "Shall we go, then?"

* * *

Something was off.

There was supposed to be five of the Republic Intelligence team. At least, that was what Padmé had told him. Two females and three males. All of whom were standing there before him, conversing amiably.

And not one of them looked anything like the man he'd seen in the palace.

He'd been wearing the same uniform as them, but where all of these members were tall, this man had been short.

The pilot and co-pilot had been kind enough to let him sit in the cockpit with them, where he could keep an eye on all of their actions.

So far, they seemed to be innocent. They were just beginning the launch sequence when a soft buzzing sound caught his attention.

They had yet to take off, so as nonchalantly as he could, he excused himself to presumably get something from his bag.

The cargo hold wasn't large, which was surprising for a ship that size. Obi-Wan didn't boast an unlimited amount of ship plans, but the size of this one seemed almost… cramped, especially for a ship designed to carry people,

The buzzing was slightly louder in there, mixing in with the gentle hum of the ships engines. It vaguely reminded him of the staticky sound a holoviewer made when the frequency tuner was off.

Or when a comm signal was weak.

On impulse, he pressed his ear to the wall. Murmured voices met his ear, almost completely drowned out by the buzzing of a staticky comm connection. Obi-Wan mentally cursed his lack of the force as he strained to pick up the words.

"... in custody… jedi… backup… quietly… urgent…"

The feeling of doubt that had been lurking around the edges of his mind suddenly became crystal clear.

This was a trap.

And he had walked straight into it.

As quietly as he could, Obi-Wan made his way back to the main cabin, where Padmé was with her class and Tre.

The woman glanced back at him with raised brow, and her blaster glinted as she shifted.

So he wouldn't be able to get to Padmé. At least, not alone. He wracked his brain for an excuse to leave the ship, but came up empty.

"Obi-Wan? Aayla wants you."

He turned to Satine gratefully gratefully. "Thank you. Ms Tre, I apologize, but I need to take this."

She nodded, but a spark of wariness remained in her eyes. Not willing to let it grow into something else, Obi-Wan followed the duchess out of the ship and across to where the Jedi's ship was warming up.

Aayla was waiting for them at the ramp, and she quickly pulled them into the ship, glancing over her shoulder as they went. Inside, an Ehren girl was sitting on a stool, beaten and bloodied. Ahsoka was crouched beside her, translating the girl's broken Basic to Bant, who was writing everything down.

"She works the local communication branch," Aayla explained. "You know, the tower like house in the village? There's one in every one of them, so they can send messages and such. Apparently, she was working there yesterday when someone requested to send a transmission. They attacked her when she refused."

"Last night?"

"Yes." She folded her arms across her chest. "How did you know?"

"I overheard one of the 'Intelligence agents'," he explained. "He was saying something about backup."

Ahsoka looked up at them, her eyes wide. "An ambush. They're going to ambush us."

"Why would you think that?"

She ignored them, saying something to the girl. The Ehren nodded quickly, rattling off something with jerky hand motions.

"Tell us what she is saying," Aayla demanded.

Ahsoka got to her feet quickly. "They have a whole fleet up there. We were picking up something on our scanners, but we didn't know…" she tugged on the end of her lekku anxiously. "I have to tell Master."

"No, we can't do that," Luminara said quietly. "Someone likely alerted them, and we have no way to know who it is yet."

"Master would never do that!" The girl cried indignantly. "He loves her, more than his own life! Sk… Master wouldn't want anyone to kill Padmé!"

Luminara shook her head. "It's too risky. We're going to have to find a way to bring the Senator and her friends here if we want to escape."

"Too late." Bant, who had peeked outside, shook her head. "Two of the men are standing guard by the ramp, and they're armed. There's no way to get them out of the way without alerting the ones already in the ship."

"We have no choice," Ahsoka argued. "They have backup. Once they get down here, it will be all over for us. We have to tell Master."

"It's too dangerous. Even if he isn't in on this, going to him would look too suspicious."

She looked at him, but he shook his head. "I'm sorry, little one, but Bant's right. It's too dangerous."

"You don't have to, I'll go," she begged. "It might be our only chance."

They exhanged glances, and he sighed. "I'm going back to the ship to make sure Padmé and the others are safe. If you must go, wait at least two minutes after I'm out. I'll try to stall them to give you more time. Aayla," he turned to the twi'lek. "I want you to try and make communication with the Republic. See if there are any squadrons nearby that can be spared. Bant, keep watch. Make sure those guards don't move anywhere and don't make contact with anyone."

Satine placed a hand on his arm. "What about me?"

He felt his face soften as he leaned over and kissed her forehead. "You stay here, be safe."

"Why is it that everytime you tell me that, something disastrous seems to happen?"

* * *

Ahsoka flew through the halls, the Master hot on her heels. He was cursing under his breath, and she knew that he was angry at her for pulling him out of his depression. She was only glad that she had found him before he had gotten into his emergency stash of correlian brandy.

Just before she rounded yet another corner, a warning shot through the force, and she felt herself being yanked back. In one motion, her Master had pushed him behind her and had lightsaber in hand as he motioned for her to be quiet.

Low voices drifted through the hall, and she easily recognized one. The sultry feminine voice was all too familiar, and she chided herself for not seeing it earlier.

Pella.

The person who she was conversing with, a man, was less familiar, but it didn't take her long to recognize him as one of the 'Intelligence' members.

Before she could process their words, her Master was already in action, saber blazing as he rounded the corner. Seemingly effortlessly, he picked up the man with the force as he sent Pella slamming into the wall. Even from where she was, Ahsoka could here the sickening thud of the woman's body as it hit the concrete wall.

Meanwhile, the man was gasping and writhing in the air. His face began to grow purple from lack of oxygen, and she watched in fascinated horror as the veins on his neck pulsed with the effort to take the life giving nutrients to the brain.

"Who did you contact?" Anakin hissed, bringing the choking man nearer to him. "What are you here for?"

The man gagged desperately, his hands clawing helplessly at his throat. Face hard, Anakin loosened his grip on the man's windpipe minutely, and he gasped. "He… want's… them," he managed to get out. "They… must… die…"

"Who is he?"

"Don't… know…" He choked once, twice, and his eyes began to glaze over as bloody saliva dribbled from his lip.

With a look of disgust, Anakin let the man fall to the floor. "Pitiful excuse for a human being," he spat.

A warning rang out through the force, and Ahsoka ducked just as a blaster bolt whistled directly between her lekku. Looking back in the direction the bolt had come from, she managed to catch a glimpse of gray and black before the sniper dodged behind a pillar.

Within seconds, blaster bolts were flying through the halls as the marching of super battle droids filled the air. Completely weaponless, Ahsoka cursed under her breath as a blaster bolt grazed side. The stench of burning flesh met her nostrils as she hissed in pain. The training bolts at the temple had been nothing like this.

"Ahsoka, get behind me," Anakin yelled, his blade deflecting the bolts in an almost blinding blur of blue. In one swift motion, he used the force to push the droids back before pulling the blaster from the unconscious Pella's holster and tossing it to her.

Feeling a little better to have a weapon in her hand, Ahsoka carefully began picking off the droids one by one, clenching her teeth against the pain blossoming in her side.

It took them nearly ten minutes for the two of them to take down the troop, and by that time the sniper was long gone.

Almost immediately, he began making his way towards the hangar. The adrenaline from the swift battle had worn off, though, and Ahsoka felt the pain hit her anew.

He must have sensed her anguish, for he paused and turned back to her, his eyes immediately going to the spot of burnt flesh on her side. "You're injured."

She gave him a weak smile, wincing when she shifted and white hot pain enveloped her. "Go on, I'll be fine. Tell the Master's I'll catch them another time."

He hesitated, then shook his head. "I'm not leaving you behind. They might send more."

"Master, no, I'll only slow you down, and you need to get to Padmé." Indecision flickered in his eyes at her name, and she offered her bravest smile. "Go."

"I'm not leaving you behind, Snips." Ignoring her protests, he carefully lifted her up, bridal style, and gave her a fond smile. "Comfortable?"

She flinched when his arm hit her side. "I'll make it."

He barked out a laugh. "You'd better."

* * *

If someone had told Padmé ten minutes ago that she would be running through a battlefield with her five petrified students in tow, she wouldn't have believed them.

Yet here she was, ducking between trees, hiding behind pillars, and stopping every two minutes to make sure that there were still five hoods bobbing anxiously after her.

For what felt like the fiftieth time, she stopped to count heads. Acca led the group, translating Padmé's instructions to them quickly as they ducked blaster fire and evaded the battle droids.

Obi-Wan came up the rear, his lightsaber flashing blue as he deflected the blaster bolts whistling their way. Perspiration beaded on his forehead, and his brow was wrinkled in concentration. For some reason, he seemed different than usual. The arc of his blade, usually smooth and effortless, was now choppy and stiff. Had the last two months really made such a dent on his lightsaber skills?

She turned her concentration to the Jedi's ship, only twenty meters ahead. The three Jedi were all out on the field, cutting down droids in mesmerizing arcs of

They came to the last pillar, and she stopped. There was still over fifteen meters between them and the ship, and this time there was no cover. Just hundreds of blaster bolts and battle droid parts.

"We're going to have to dash for it," Obi-Wan yelled over the clanking of the battle droids. "Go as fast as you can. I'll cover for you."

Acca glanced at Padmé once before quickly relaying the instructions to the others, and they nodded.

Obi-Wan waited for a beat, then nodded quickly. "Go!"

Keeping her head down, Padmé made the dash across the battlefield, silently praying to the Seven Goddeses all the way, and threw in whatever other deities might be listening.

Fifteen. Ten. Five.

The flat of her foot hit the durasteel of the ramp, and she hazarded a glance over her shoulder.

Just in time to see Obi-Wan crumple to the ground.

* * *

Pain radiated through his side, but Obi-Wan ignored it. Only one more minute, and Padmé would be safe.

Without the force to aid him, he had been fortunate to still be alive. There were no warnings as the blaster bolts whistled through the air, and it had taken all of his concentration to deflect the ones coming their way.

They only had five more meters to go. Four. Three. Two. One.

She was safe.

Searing pain shot up his leg as another blaster bolt met it's mark, and he felt himself falling. This time, when he hit the dirt, he didn't bother to get up.

The others would make sure Padmé and Satine got to safety. His mission was complete.

"Master?"

Obi-Wan forced his eyes open, and met a familiar pair of blue orbs. "Anakin?"

The boy- man- swore, his brow wrinkled in concern. "Master, you need to get up. They're ready to go."

"They? Anakin, don't play games with me. I'm tired, let me go back to sleep."

His padawan shook him. "Master, wake up. Come on, it's just a couple more meters…"

"Can't a fellow die in peace?" Obi-Wan snapped, irritated that his apprentice had come back from the dead only to keep him in the land of the living. "It's over for me, Anakin. Please, just let me sleep. We'll talk later."

Anakin grumbled something under his breath, but Obi-Wan decided to let it slide. But when pain flared in his abdomen and leg, he grunted in irritation.

"Put me down, blast it! Can't you see I'm trying to die here?"

"Sorry, Master," the man mumbled, not sounding sorry at all as he placed him over his shoulder. "But that won't be happening."

* * *

Satine couldn't watch.

When the first ship of battle droids had landed, she had retreated to the cargo hold of the ship. She was being a coward, she knew, but seeing a war happen before her very eyes…

It had not brought back pretty memories.

So here she was, sorting through whatever supplies the Jedi had brought with them. She had already sorted them by color, name, manufacturer, and use, but now she busied herself with taking inventory.

Heavy footsteps sounded from the hold, and she heard a soft cry.

"Anyone in here?"

Dropping her notebook, Satine peeked into the room to see Anakin carrying the togruta. His hood was gone now, and his eyes sparkled a brilliant blue as they narrowed in on her. "I'm the only one here. The others are outside in the…" she swallowed when she noticed the blaster burn on the girls side. "She's injured."

"Kriffing hell I am!" The girl hissed indignantly when he shifted. "And this idiot just had to make it worse."

"You shouldn't swear," Satine admonished her gently. "Here, set her down on the bench. We have some medical supplies in the hold. I'll patch her up."

He nodded, placing the girl on the table as Satine ducked back into the cargo hold to find the first aid kit she had put away earlier. She had just located it in the 'medical' section when more footsteps were heard and the rapid prattle in a language she didn't know let her know Padmé and her students had arrived.

She shut her eyes, waiting for the rich Coruscanti accent to filter through the other voices. She hadn't wanted him to go out there, especially under suppression. But he would come back. He always did.

Clutching the kit so hard her knuckles turned white, she stepped out into the hold. Ahsoka was still lying on the bench where she had left her, and the five Ehren were gathered around her, talking animatedly in their language. Padmé was still standing on the ramp, her face ashen.

And for the second time in the last two months, Satine felt like the bottom had fallen out of her world.

There could only be one reason why it was just Padmé and the students, why she was staring out at the clearing with a look of devistation on her face.

She couldn't move. Satine was vaguely aware of Ahsoka calling her name, but she was helpless to respond as everything seemed to fade to gray.

Until Padmé backed up to let Anakin through, with Obi-Wan over his shoulder.

Before he had even set him down, she was on her knees beside him, cradling his head in her lap gently. There were two blaster burns on his side, and one in his thigh, and she didn't even want to know where else.

Padmé had rescued the first aid kit from where she had dropped it, and handed her a small tub of bacta. "Here, you take care of him. I'll get Ahsoka." Then, she turned to Anakin, offering him a warm smile. "Thank you, sir, for helping our friend. We're all very grateful to you."

Satine cringed as Anakin's eyes widened. Padmé didn't recognize him.

Then, just as Satine was sure that the man would turn around and beat as hasty of a retreat as he possibly could, recognition passed over Padmé's face and she stumbled back, her face going completely white. "Anakin?"

He didn't answer as the other Jedi rushed on board. "We've got to go, now. They've got a bomber now, and they'll fry us if we don't get out of here."

He nodded, though his eyes were still fixed on Padmé. "I'll divert them. Just go."

"Ani!" Padmé's cry was heart wrenching, and Satine felt her heart drop as he turned to look at her.

"Take care of her for me."

And with that, he was gone.

* * *

 **Guys, I'm so sorry that this took me so long! I had family visitng last week, and my friend ran away this week, so it's been a pretty chaotic time. Good news, though! I've got a new computer! (Do I hear quicker updates coming?)**

 **This marks the official end of the first arc! There will be an interlude before we dive into our next arc, and that will hopefully be up in a few days.**

 **For all you people who have been asking persistently for a chapter in Anakins/the Master POV, I have heard you and am granting you your request! We currently hace 91 follows, 72 comments, and 38 favorites, and I've decided to rewrite three chapters in the Master's POV once we hit 100 followers, 100 reviews, and 50 favorites. And please, while you're doing all of the above, tell me which chapters you want me to do!**

 **Thank you, HarmonyGirl567, Sicaedus, Stacell72, THEguitarist117, Tyrano, Firestorm2004, Lucas123, and KawaiiKitsune13 for following and favoriting! You guys mean a lot to me!**

 **Rambling anOn: Thank you so much for your reviews! They've done a lot to keep this story going!**

 **SilentSambo88: Just to clarify, Anakin never slept with Pella. He was simply using her as a convenient way to make Padmé jealous.**

 **sunmoonwindandstars: Your reviews always make me laugh, and I don't know how I could have gotten through some of the chapters without your witty suggestions.**

 **MumsieDo: Thank you for being such a faithful reviewer! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

 **stingerfan: Such insight. Though I didn't explicitly say it in this chapter, you're right, he was simply letting Padmé** **come to her own conclusions. Don't worry, though, the mystery man will be back soon.**

 **Trivia: The first arc is over one hundred and thirty pages long! (Say what?)**


	17. Chapter Sixteen: First Interlude

She was alone.

It had taken a few hours to get everything sorted, but eventually the full story had come out.

Anakin Skywalker had not died. He'd run away that night because of Padmé, and had eventually found his way to Ehren, where he had created the persona of the Master. When they had arrived, he had not revealed his true identity in order to get closer to Padmé. Somewhere along the way, Satine had found out the truth, and had purposefully concealed it in an effort at matchmaking.

The last part had been wryly added in by Obi-Wan, and Satine had not been able to deny it.

Everything had gone downhill after that.

Padmé had not been pleased about a singular portion of it, and Satine could only be grateful that she had not told her about the full extent of Anakin's plan. As it was, the younger woman had given her a very silent look of anger before calmly informing Obi-Wan to tell 'that woman' that she would no longer be welcome.

She hadn't expounded past that, retreating to the other end of the ship with her students.

Obi-Wan had sat with her a while longer, his anger stemming from a deeper hurt that neither she nor Anakin had trusted them enough to tell him anything. There had been more than a little bewilderment on his part, on why Anakin had left in the first place.

Indignance and sympathy had equal parts with him. He had not understood Padmé's actions in the least, and had been very staunch in his defense for Anakin that he had every right to believe that she hadn't loved him. Wasn't it supposed to be the man that couldn't control his base urges instead of pursuing a more romantic approach to a relationship?

When she mentioned the fact that Anakin had mentioned catching Padmé in a 'compromising' position with another Jedi, he had frowned and wrinkled his brow, before his mouth formed a small circle.

It had been one of Anakin's colleagues, he explained. The young man had come to him the week after being assigned to the Senator in great distress. Apparently, the padawan had been the unlucky recipient of Padmé's experiments after a meal and a few glasses of her good wine. She had wanted to know what it was like to kiss a Jedi, it seemed, and the boy had obliged her, only to have her smile at him a few seconds later and thank him.

At the time, Obi-Wan had thought very little about it, simply patting the poor boy on the shoulder and telling him to meditate his urges away. He'd not thought about it again, and certainly not related it to Anakin's so called 'death'.

He had understood, he said, that Anakin had been hurt, but faking his death?

It had been then that she had given him the recording Anakin had given her. Almost immediately, his eyes had softened, and she had seen the slightest of sheens over the gray orbs. Then, he'd pulled her close and kissed her forehead, and all had been right with the world for a moment.

By the time they had returned to Coruscant, however, she had realized that all was not right with the world. Padmé hadn't given her so much as a passing glance as she left for the Senate, to release the fact that she was not dead, and, in fact, very much alive. Of course, Satine had been immediately carried off by Bo-Katan and Korkie, the former of which wanting to know how many people she'd killed and the later how she had managed to survive all that time.

Obi-Wan, in his own right, had been rejoiced over by half of the female population, not withstanding several female Jedi that seemed altogether too familiar with the Jedi Master.

But now, the guests had left, and everyone had retreated to their respectable rooms in the penthouse.

Everyone except her.

She sat in the kitchen, sipping a cup of sapir tea to sooth her nerves, when the door to Obi-Wan's room opened.

One look at his face and she knew he had listened to it.

In the fourteen years that she had known him, Satine had only seen Obi-Wan Kenobi to shed tears once.

Thia time, he was crying.

* * *

It had been two weeks.

Satine felt an air of melancholiness as she placed her last dress into her suitcase. The room she had been staying in for the past two and a half years was stripped bare, and the the thought that she would never again call it her own increased the sadness already filling her. Of course, it had never been intended for a permanent residence, but it didn't make moving any easier.

"Is that it?"

Obi-Wan was quieter now, and shadows filled his eyes. The thought that Anakin was still out there didn't sit well with him, especially since he had left Ehren the day after they had, and never returned.

"Yes. You've taken everything else already?"

They'd both been surprised when Padmé had demanded they move out. To say she was angry at Satine was putting it mildly. Once she had found out that she had known who the Master was, Padmé had refused to say a word to her. She was minutely kinder to Obi-Wan, but the fact that she now had five new roommates meant that the both of them- friendship was just a formality, after all- had to leave.

"You're sad."

It had only taken them a week to find a new apartment, ten minutes away from both the Jedi temple and the senate building. Satine's suite had long since expired, and they had been forced to settle for a nice, if much smaller, apartment.

"I'll be fine."

He didn't say anything else, and she held back a sigh. Their conversations were stilted, now. Whatever guise of friendly camraderie they had developed was gone, the mask taken away. Leaving just them, both too afraid to venture past the fragile barrier they had both built around they had waited too long, and would never be able to get out of this uncomfortable rut they had fallen into. Gods, she hoped not.

"Master Kenobi, Your Grace, Padmé go to the Senate. She say not to wait for her."

The girl, Acca, was already making tremendous strides under Padmé's tutelage, as were her four friends. By day, they attended the local University to polish their English, and Padmé tutored them in Political Science in the evenings and whenever else she had time.

"Thank you, young one. Please tell her that she may come whenever she's free."

Padmé had buried herself in work from the time they had returned. Every waking moment not spent with her pupils was used for something productive. Satine had seen enough of her in the early days after Anakin's supposed death to know that it was her normal response to grief, and she only hoped that the woman wouldn't get too far in.

Snapping her suitcase shut, she let out a deep sigh. Warm hands settled onto her shoulders, gently massaging the tense muscles. "We'll be fine," Obi-Wan said softly. "It's been long overdue as it is."

She leaned into him, relishing the warmth and comfort he brought. "I should have told her."

"You were trying to make the best of a bad situation," he soothed. "And even if you had, it's unlikely that it would have turned out better."

"I would have still had my friend."

Gently, he turned her around so she was facing him. There was sadness in his eyes as well, but the hint of a smile lurked at the corner of his mouth. "Good thing you have me, then, isn't it?"

She smiled, turning away and picking up her bag. "Shall we go, then?"

He bowed. "After you, Your Grace."

* * *

It had been a month.

Satine hurried through the Senate halls, eager to leave the stifling atmosphere and return home.

A few meters ahead of her, she saw a pair of Senators walking her way, talking animatedly about something. She was just about to pass them when one of them noticed her and curtsied. "Your Grace."

She held back a groan, and she had little doubt that the other woman did so as well. "Senator Krey, Senator Amidala."

Padmé nodded to her. "Duchess."

So, she was still angry. Ignoring her, Satine turned to Acca, who was all but bouncing with excitement. "I heard your speech. It was very inspiring, very heartwarming. You've worked really hard for your people, and it shows."

Acca gave an exaggerated sigh. "Hono say I work too much," she said, referring to the Ehren representitive. "But it not really working when I having fun, yes?"

She smiled, wishing she shared the girls enthusiasm. "Keep that outlook and you'll go far in life."

"Thank you, Your Grace." She played with the edge of her sleeve. "You have seen Ahsoka?"

"Yes, just last week. Obi-Wan brought her home for dinner, since her Master was off planet." She flexed her fingers, trying to withhold her impatience. "She's doing well, and he says she's very dedicated to her studies. Top of her class."

"You tell her I ask about her?"

"Of course." She glanced at the nearest wall chrono and let out a deep sigh. "Senators, it's been a pleasure."

They both nodded, and Padmé just short of dragged Acca after her.

Sighing, Satine walked on.

* * *

It was at these times that Satine was happy that Padmé had kicked them out of her apartment a month ago.

Though the animosity between them had lessened, there was still a bridge that neither of them seemed willing to cross. On her part, it was simply too tiring after holding out the proverbial olive leaf for the past month and a half.

Too tired to reason anymore, she felt her eyelids start to shut, and she snuggled closer to the Jedi at her side. He chuckled softly, turning them over so that she was resting on his chest. "Tired?"

She yawned. "A little." The holodrama they had been watching played on, forgotten. "Obi?"

"Yes, love?"

"When are you going to shave?"

He laughed softly, kissing her forehead. "And why would I want to do that?"

"Because I don't kiss men with beards."

He pulled her in for one then, and she smiled when she tasted the lingering sweetness of the wine they had drunk with their dinner. This hadn't been the first kiss they'd shared since their return, or the second. But neither of those previous had been more of a quick peck.

A quick rap sounded at the door, and Obi-Wan groaned beneath her. "Now who in the blazes…"

She shushed him with a quick kiss. "I'll get 's probably just Ahsoka coming by for company. " The girl by at least once a week to indulge on Satine's sweets and to catch up on all the latest gossip.

He shook his head, sitting up and sliding her off of him. "Let me. You've been on your feet all day."

Satine didn't protest, yawning again as she snuggled into the sofa. "Okay."

His chuckle was as reassuring as the soft padding off his bare feet across the carpeted floor. At one time, she had thought that the small apartment would never feel like home, but now she couldn't imagine anything different. Coming home to a warm apartment that smelled of exotic teas and Jedi, getting a soothing massage from said Jedi, watching sappy holodramas with that same Jedi…

What more could she want out of a home?

"Satine? I think we have a situation."

Groaning, she buried her face deeper in the pillows. "Tell them I'll handle it at my nearest convenience."

"I don't think it will be that simple."

"Satine…"

The second voice was familiar, if weak, and Satine jerked upright. "Anakin?"

He stood there, one arm slung over Obi-Wan's shoulder, while the other- what was left of it, that was- dangled limply at his side, a bloody and mutilated stump. One eye was bruised and swollen shut, while liberal cuts and scars marked the other. More cuts and bruises riddled his face, but a lazy smile was on the busted lips, and she could hace sworn he smirked at her.

"Satine, I've gotten myself in a bit of trouble…"

* * *

 **Someone once said that Satine indicates the reader, and I am inclined to agree.**

 **Thank you to all of you who took the time to favorite and follow, it really means a lot to me when I see your names, ShatterdKNights, 4gardiean, twm2002, darkangel346, kazster, stingerfan, Leia Naberrie de Naboo, daenarys dragon, AngelBlue1852, and Writer13032005.**

 **Only 4 more follows, 7 more favorites, and 21 more reviews before I post Anakin's POV. For those who are concerned about the original versions of the chapters not being available, I plan to upload the chapters as another story. If any of you have a specific seen you want to read, please either pm me or leave it in a review.**

 **MMM73181: Yes, she is, thank you. It was a harrowing few weeks, but she made it back last thursday.**

 **phhsdj: I'll do my best!**

 **Guest: Thank you!**

 **Sunmoonwindandstars: As always, a review to make me laugh. Yes, Anakin still has his lightsaber, and I'm not sure if I mentioned it, but it is his old one, plain blue blade and all. I can only imagine what Padmé's going to say this time…**

 **MumsieDo: Everyone seems to want Anakin hurt, lol.**

 **stingerfan: yes, it is.**

 **Rambling anOn: Thank you! My friend is back home and safe, much to my relief. Yes, I will be leaving up the original chapters, and I will most definitely include chapter eight. I'm so glad that you continue to enjoy!**

 **Trivia: I originally planned to have Anakin's arm taken off at the end of The End in a sacrifice to save them, but took it out because Obi-Wan would not have discovered who he was then.**


	18. Chapter Seventeen: Lies

Padmé was growing suspicious.

For the past two weeks, she had been making an effort to be nice to Satine. Over the month and a half since they had left Ehren, the anger had slowly abated, and Padmé had slowly warmed to the idea of forgiving past wrongs.

And she thought she had been doing pretty well. She would smile and nod to the Duchess, occasionally stop for a brief chat, and had even gone so far as to suggest they go out for caff one day.

It had seemed like things were getting better. Up until three days before.

Now, the Duchess never seemed to have time to be friendly. Any conversations broached were brought to a swift end, lunch invitations shot down, and smiles completely and utterly ignored.

But it was a recess day, and work had finally become too tedious for even her. Her penthouse was large and lonely, as Acca and her friends had moved into their new apartment just the day before.

So, after much deliberation and struggle, Padmé had taken an air taxi to the apartment complex that Satine stayed in.

It wasn't until she arrived did she realize that she had never visited the Duchess before and didn't have the slightest idea which room she was in. The receptionist, however, proved to be very friendly and gave her the appropriate floor.

Once in the lift, the anxiety returned, and she wondered if coming had been such a good idea. After all, Satine was here because Padmé had kicked her out. And Padmé had ignored her for almost a month.

Though all with good reason, of course.

The lift chimed as it approached the floor, and she tensed as the door slid open.

A glistening wet, half naked Obi-Wan stood in the doorway, eyebrow raised. "Padmé?"

She blinked. "Obi-Wan. I didn't expect you to be here."

He shrugged, flipping a towel over his shoulder. "I just got home. Can I get you something to drink?"

Padmé shook her head, watching the ease in which he navigated the apartment. "You seem like you just got out of the shower."

"I did." He glanced at the wall chrono and yawned. "I'm just going to have something to eat before I take a nap."

"Here?"

He gave her a strange look as he called a cup of what she expected to be tea to his hand. "Yes. Where else would I be?"

"I… I don't know. I just assumed you went back to the temple after… after…" she trailed off, her cheeks warming under his curious gaze. "I thought Satine lives here.'

"She does. We do," he corrected. "Have been for the past month."

Padmé shifted awkwardly. "I see. It's cozy."

He smiled, looking around the spacious living area. "It's home," he said simply.

"Obi? Who are you talking to?" Satine came out of one of the doorways, drying her hands on a towel. When she saw Padmé, she stopped. "Padmé?"

She gave a small smile, straightening. "Satine."

Satine glanced at Obi-Wan, and Padmé could see the question marks dancing in her eyes. "Please, sit. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Thank you, I'm fine." Feeling extremely awkward, Padmé sat down on one of the sofa's. "I was just telling Obi-Wan I like your place."

The Duchess smiled, but she could tell the woman was ill at ease. "We find it comfortable." She frowned at Obi-Wan. "Weren't you planning on taking a nap?"

The corner of his eyes crinkled into laugh lines, and his eyes danced. "After I eat, love."

Satine glared at him irritably. "Then go eat and leave us alone."

He chuckled, going into the kitchen. "Can I get you anything, Padmé? Shurra, maybe?"

Oh, her weakness. "I don't want to put you out," she began, uncertain.

"I assure you, our pockets are well enough lined to offer you some fruit."

Satine scoffed. "You mean that my pockets are well lined."

"Same thing." He came out with a bowl of fruit and handed it to Padmé. "Here?"

She accepted it, and he disappeared into the kitchen once more.

After a moment of silence, Satine sat up a little straighter. "So, Padmé, what brings you by?"

Padmé resisted the urge to twist her hands in her lap. "I was alone today, and I was just wondering if… perhaps… I had not seen your apartment yet, so I just thought…" she trailed off, the excuses sounding feeble to her own ears. Stabbing at her fruit, she wondered again why she had come.

"I could give you a tour," Satine said gently. "I'm afraid that it's not very big, but if you want to…"

She jumped at the idea. Anything, anything to remove the awkward silence that hung between them. "I didn't know that Obi-Wan stayed here."

Satine's gaze went to the dining room, where the Jedi had retreated with his tea and food. "Yes, he stays here most days."

"How did you meet?" Padmé asked curiously, "I never thought to ask before, but you knew each other before… before we met at my apartment, didn't you?"

If she had caught the momentary hesitation, Satine didn't show it. "He and Master Qui-Gonn were sent to protect me when insurgents took over Mandalore, but that was nearly fifteen years ago. It was an extended mission; he was with me for nearly a year, until we were able to retake the throne."

Something in the Duchess's tone sparked a memory of her and Anakin, at Varykino. "Were you close?"

"We were both young and afraid, and spent more time arguing than anything." A raw, aching sadness touched her eyes for a moment. "We didn't stay in touch after he left. I was busy with rebuilding Mandalore, and he towards becoming a Jedi Knight. And after Master Jinn died…" she trailed off, blinking back tears. "When I came to your apartment that day… it was the first time I had seen him in almost eleven years."

After a moment of melancholy silence, the Duchess stood, suggesting that they tour the apartment. The smile that she gave was entirely too cheerful, but Padmé had a feeling that whatever memories were going through her mind were not of the happy sort.

* * *

Padmé was gone.

Bowl in hand, Satine knocked on Obi-Wan's bedroom door, where Anakin was slowly recuperating.

"Come in."

He was lying on his back, propped up by nearly a dozen of her throw pillows. He smiled weakly when he saw her, raising his stub of a right arm up a few inches before letting it fall back to his side. "Hi, Satine."

She smiled, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I was just here an hour ago."

"It felt longer." His gaze went to the door. "She is gone, then?"

"Yes."

He exhaled slowly, pain clear in his eyes, though Satine wasn't sure if it was emotional or physical. "I shouldn't have come. You've just started to fix things, and I… You shouldn't have to keep covering for me."

"I don't plan to."At his wide eyed look, she offered him a small smile. "I'm going off planet for a week or so. If you don't tell her yourself by the time I return, I will inform her of your presence."

His eyes narrowed. "Not if I leave first."

"You won't. Even you know that until your arm heals you cannot just leave. As a dead man, it is doubtful that any medcenter of repute will accept you, and you have admitted yourself that you are lacking credits, so purchasing a medic droid is out of the question." She smirked. "As it is, you don't seem inclined to leave that bed and three square meals a day over a woman, especially if it risks your life."

Anakin grumbled something under his breath. "I liked you better before, when you were nice."

"I'm always nice to people when I'm on their turf. But now, you're on mine, and unless you want half of the Jedi Order on your dying tail, you will stay here and tell Padmé you're here."

"But…"

Satine shook her head. "No buts. We danced to your tune last time, and you stomped on my toes. Now, I'll have you waltzing to mine."

His face darkened forebodingly, and he looked remarkably like a sulking child. "I still have blackmail on you."

"You wouldn't."

He met her gaze defiantly. "I don't want to see Padmé."

"And whyever not? You're madly in love with her, for Force sakes!"

"Yes! I love her!" Raw hurt flashed through his eyes, the intensity making Satine draw back. "I love her," he said, softer. "And it's because of that very inconvenient emotion that I know I could never be acceptable to her." He let out a laugh, the sound so bitter it made her heart ache. "Don't you see? Padmé Amidala is perfect. She wants- she deserves perfect things. And I'm… I'm not perfect. I'm just a slave boy from Tatooine that fell in love with an angel. It's like you said. Sometimes, you love someone so much that you have to let them go."

* * *

Padmé took a sip of her wine, looking out over the cityscape pensively. Even in the dark of night, Coruscant was alive with lights and sounds. She remembered a time when the city life had filled her with awe, when she fed off of the endless energy that constantly surrounded her.

She had been young, then. Freshly elected queen,the busy Coruscant was a far cry from the simple elegance of Naboo. The towering buildings enchanted her, the skylanes excited her, the Senate awed her. She had thought that she would never be tired of living on Coruscant, then.

But now, nearly fifteen years later, the city had lost it's glamour. The endless activity wearied her, and the durasteel and concrete made her long for the serene beauty of home.

Varykino rose unbidden in her mind, for once a welcome thought instead of one riddled with harsh memories. Like her anger at Satine, her anger towards Anakin had begun to cool, though she did all she could to hold on to it. After all, he had kept her in a place of grief for three years.

But each time, the memory of what she had done to him came to her mind. Had she been any better, taking his love and so carelessly tossing it back in his face? Now, she could see the hurt in his eyes when she had spoken. The struggle had been there as well, but she had attributed it to the fact that such actions were against the could she have been so blind, so shallow?

And shallow was the truth of it. For the first week of his disappearance, she had been worried, but had let herself be reassured by the Jedi Council that everything would be okay. He had been worried about his mom, they said, and had likely thought to take advantage of the short distance between Naboo and Tatooine to go to her.

So Padmé had relaxed slightly, accepting the Jedi Padawan they sent her graciously.

Just the thought of him sent embarrasment and self deprecation racing through her veins. She had been wrong to use him, and had regretted it sorely immediately afterwards.

Her thoughts had been consumed by Anakin, dreamily going over their time at Varykino, and he had asked her what she was thinking about.

 _What it would be like to kiss a Jedi_.

Even now, she cringed. She supposed she could blame the wine for loosening her tongue slightly. And she could certainly blame the padawan for taking her words to mean that she _wanted_ to kiss him. But it still was her fault.

He had kissed her, and she had let him. There had been no sparks, no bells and whistles, and she had pulled away only a second later.

In her mind, it hardly was a kiss, and she had almost immediately forgotten it.

Had she been that shallow?

Force, she could only be grateful that Anakin hadn't seen that. How much worse the situation could have been.

Letting out a deep sigh, she drained the rest of her wine and stood, taking the bottle to the kitchen.

She had just placed the half empty bottle into the wine cooler when her security system beeped, telling her that someone was on her private landing pad. Curious as to who could be visiting at such a late hour, she cautiously approached the doorway.

"Ah, Senator Amidala, you're awake. Good, good." The thin, scratchy voice was like fingernails on a chalkboard. "I do hope I have not disturbed you."

She gave him a tense smile, wishing that she had finished the bottle of wine. "Not at all, Your Excellency. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

As he came into the light, she could see the shrewd calculation in his eyes. Once, she had imagined those eyes to be kind and benevolent, but she had since learned that it was mostly an act. His hands, so white she doubted blood ran through them, hung limply in front of him in an unnatural position that made her further question the life of them.

He smiled, and the discerning look he gave her disarmed Padmé more than she would like to admit. "May I not simply visit my old friend, Amidala?"

She held back a shudder. "Of course, though the timing…"

"Of course, I apologize." He let out a deep sigh, suddenly appearing older and near exhaustion. "Being Chancellor is a never ending job. I do not recommend it, Amidala, especially for one at my age."

For some reason that she couldn't put her finger on, the persona of a weak old man simply was not believable. "May I offer you a seat, your Excellency?"

"Palpatine, my dear," he chided, sitting with a sigh of relief. "Such formalities are not pleasant." His eyes went over the dimly lit room critically. "I won't be long. I have no wish to wake your guests."

"Oh, not to worry. Senator Krey and her friends are at their new residence tonight."

He cocked his head to the side. "And the Duchess?"

Not for one second did she buy it. "Satine moved out a month ago."

"Ah, I remember now. You'll have to forgive me my dear, but my memory's is not at all what it used to be." He shook his head sadly. "Why, it was just this evening that Amedda- you know Amedda, don't you?- Amedda told me that her Grace has a visitor. Not that it's any of his business, but you know people these days, always staying abreast of the local gossip."

She frowned. "They must have arrived after I left, then, for I went there only today and there was no one but her there."

Palpatine's brow wrinkled in perplexity. "No, that cannot be right, for he distinctly said that he- at least, I believe he said it was a he- had been there for a few days. But then, gossip isn't all that reliable, is it? For certainly, the Duchess wouldn't have lied to you?"

She hesitated. "I would hope not." But hadn't she done it before?

Sympathy filled the elderly man's eyes. "I'm sorry if I have upset you, Amidala. I know much of what it feels like to have someone one thinks of as a friend be dishonest." He sighed, standing. "But it is late, and I must sleep for what little time I can. The Republic waits for no man, it seems."

She nodded absently, caught up in her own thoughts.

Had Satine lied to her? She had seemed a bit guilty when Padmé had first come in. And later, when they had been going through the apartment, hadn't she stopped her from going into one of the rooms, saying that it was Obi-Wan's? And hadn't Obi-Wan, only a few seconds later, disappear into the room Satine had said to be hers? And now that she thought about it, hadn't Satine come out of the locked room when she first arrived?

The more she thought about it, the more certain she became that Satine was indeed hiding something. She'd said they could not go into Obi-Wan's room because of the mess, but hadn't Obi-Wan always been the epitome of cleanliness? And now that she thought about it, a pot of pogdon soup had been boiling in the kitchen although both Obi-Wan and Satine had always despised it. So why would they be cooking it now, unless for someone else?

Tomorrow, she decided. Tomorrow, she would confront Satine and get answers.

* * *

 **So! We're making awesome progress to the Master Chapters, with only two followers, five favorites, and fourteen reviews to go!**

 **Thank you to stars90 and ThinkerPal for giving that extra push with new favorites and follows!**

 **Jadaerys: probably because he knows Satine would be less likely to kill him on sight.**

 **sunmoonwindandstars: hope this gave you some insight!**

 **Cyana Shan: It's not that serious, just a missing arm… okay, maybe it is.**

 **nurbb: thank you!**

 **Rambling anOn: I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **MumsieDo: Well, now that Palpy's gotten involved, you might need a parachute.**

 **JoieMaris: I think we might be the only ones…**

 **Trivia: Padmé was supposed to find threepio during her stay on Ehren, but I had to take it out.**


	19. Chapter Eighteen: Mother

Satine hated deserts.

Up until then, she had thought that none could be worse than Mandalore's wasteland. But Tatooine was ten times as bad.

At least Mandalore wasn't so _hot_. The light wool robes that she had donned did littled to deflect the heat, and she brushed a sweaty lock of hair from her forehead. The small cluster of domed buildings in the middle of nowhere was her destination, if she didn't die from heatstroke before then.

Already, she had been to the settlements of Anchorhead, Mos Espa, and Mos Eisley, all to find a woman.

Shmi. At least, that had been what the toydarian had told her. Watto, who had been referred to her by the Dug at the podracing track, which had been recommended to her by the Ithorian who had served her drink at a seedy bar in Anchorhead. The drink was long gone by now, any liquid that hadn't been alcohol already sweated out of her pores.

Gods, she hoped the Lars had something for her to drink. But of course they would; they were moisture farmers, after all. And wasn't that their crop? Moisture?

Even a cup of blue milk would be good.

"Excuse me, Miss, but I do believe that you have made a wrong turn."

The prim voice made her turn, only to see a dusty gray protocol droid standing there. She nearly let out a sigh of relief. "Perhaps you could help me, then. Could you direct me to the Lars farm?"

The droid started. "Oh, yes. Come, Master Cliegg should have returned by now. I apologize for the obtuse way that I greeted you just now. We do not get visitors often."

She could imagine not. "I was actually… is Mrs. Lars at home?"

A pause. "Yes, Mistress Shmi will be making the midday meal now. Please, come into the house."

The upside down dust bowl hardly seemed like a house, but she followed him regardless. Once inside, the temperature cooled drastically, the adobe walls blocking out the heat of the midday sun. The droid led her through a small foyer and into a dining room, where two couples, one older, one younger, were seated enjoying their meal.

They paused when they saw her, and Satine stood there awkwardly as C-3PO shuffled over to the older couple, whom she suspected to be Shmi and Cliegg. Whatever the droid said seemed to put them ill at ease, for wariness came into their eyes.

Great. Just what she needed, them to be suspicious of her. "Mr and Mrs Lars, I presume?"

Cliegg humphed, sitting back in his chair. "Depends on who's asking."

Satine bowed slightly. "I am Satine Kryze, Duchess of Mandalore. I've come about Anakin."

The woman, Shmi, jumped up from her chair, her eyes wide. "What do you know of my son? Is he okay?"

She gave her a small smile. "He's been injured, but we're confident he'll make a full recovery. He's currently recuperating in my guest bedroom." Shmi looked relieved. "But, that's not what I'm here about."

* * *

Obi-Wan disliked Palpatine.

True, he disliked politicians and politics in general, but the Chancellor gave him chills. Something about the man gave him a bad feeling, nothing like the general frustration he felt around the other politicians.

He had went to Satine's office to check her messages, as she had requested, and the older man had waylaid him on his way out.

"Master Kenobi." the voice grated on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard, but he schooled his expression into one of polite interest.

"Your Excellency."

Palpatine's eyes were shrewd as he studied him. "I'm surprised to see you here, with the Duchess gone. It's been some time since you've been here."

And he was regretting coming now. "Her Grace asked me to collect her messages in her absence," he explained. "If you had something to tell her, I will gladly relay it to her."

Something sparked in Palpatine's eyes, and Obi-Wan got an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Do tell her that I'm deeply sorry for her loss. I know it's been thirteen years, but time doesn't always make it better, does it?"

Loss? Thirteen years? Questions sprang up, but he refused to voice them to the older man. He had a feeling that the Chancellor was baiting him, and- Force help him- he was not going to take it. Instead, he nodded with all seriousness. "Good day, Chancellor."

The dismissal was clear, and the Chancellor took it. But the satisfied smile on his face told Obi-Wan that he knew that his words had taken root. The intuition made him even more uneasy than the words, and he let out a sigh of relief when the man finally left the office.

Not five minutes later, when he was just on his way out, the door opened and Padmé came storming in, the Ehren girl right behind her and looking close to terrified.

He nodded to them. "Senator Amidala, Krey."

Padmé was close to having fire coming from her nostrils. "Where is she?"

"Who?"

She scoffed. "Oh, don't play innocent with me. Tell me where she is?"

"Satine?"

"This is her office, isn't it?" she asked icily.

True, true. "She's off planet. Left yesterday, said she'd be gone for a week. Why?"

Padmé's expression darkened forebodingly. "It will wait."

He decided to change the subject. "Padmé… did Satine ever tell you about someone close to her dying? About thirteen years ago?"

"I didn't know her then. I didn't even meet her until I was sixteen, and that was eleven years ago." She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"Something Palpatine said indicated that she might still be mourning. 'Even after thirteen years', I think he said."

"Wouldn't you have known her then?"

He shook his head. "No, no. I had already left Mandalore by then. Actually, thirteen years… Qui-Gonn will have been gone thirteen years in a few days. Isn't your festival coming up, then?"

"They had to move it back since they had cancelled it, not expecting me to be there." She played with the edge of her sleeve. "You will come, won't you?"

"Padmé, I don't want you to be angry at me."

"Why would I be angry at you?"

He hesitated. "I did something I shouldn't have done, and saw things I shouldn't have seen. But please, know I meant you no harm and am simply bound by actions I should never have taken."

The confusion in her eyes was clear. "I see. And what does this have to do with your ability to come to Naboo with me?"

"You likely will not be so favorable upon the idea then."

* * *

As Satine finished her story, Shmi sank into her chair, moaning. "Oh, this is my fault. Oh, Ani, why?"

Her interest peaked, Satine leaned forward in her chair."What do you mean?"

"He came to me. He'd been dreaming about me, he said, about my death." She shook her head. "That is another story for another time. In short, he saved me and brought me back here, helped to nurse me back to health. I could tell something was wrong, and one day it came out. He told me the same thing he told you, though likely with a few more embellishments when I tried to find a way to defend the girl I had met all those years ago.

"I saw how hurt he was, and I told him to go back to her, to confront her with all his fears and thoughts. If she was as callous and selfish as he claimed, then she wasn't worthy of his love, and his anger was righteous." Shmi moaned again, covering her face with her hands. "I had no idea…"

"You had no way to." Satine sighed. "I hate to say it, Mrs Lars, but your son has the tendency to indulge in half truths and hyperbole. A trait that he undoubtedly picked up from Obi-Wan, but all the same, a trait that can often seems to give him a different perspective."

Shmi laughed softly. "Believe me, he had that long before he met your Obi-Wan."

Satine wanted to argue that he wasn't _her_ Obi-Wan, but had a feeling that it would only make Shmi suspicious on that point. "I wouldn't be surprised."

"So how is he?" Concern filled Shmi's brown eyes. "You said he was injured."

She withheld the urge to scoff. "Anakin has yet to disclose to me or Obi-Wan exactly how he ended up on our doorstep, but he is certainly well enough to demand that I don't tell her."

"And you listen to him?"

"I can sympathise with him."

Shmi raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand."

"Thirteen years ago, I had a daughter. Thirteen years ago, I lost my daughter." She fought to keep her voice steady as she looked down at her lap. "Her father never knew she existed."

Shmi's eyes widened slightly. 'But surely, if you could see him again…"

"I see him every day, Mrs Lars, and I have no greater wish than that he never know what transpired after an act of mutual foolishness." She sat up straighter. "And it's because of this that I can understand and respect your son's wishes."

* * *

"It's about time that you answered," Obi-Wan said crossly, and Satine laughed softly.

"I'm an important person, Obi-Wan, you cannot believe that my life revolves around you," she chided gently. "As it is, I'm here now. So speak."

His eyes searched hers for a moment. "You've been crying."

"It's nothing," she said dismissively.

"Satine…"

"I thought you said you wanted to talk to me?"

His eyes narrowed. "Don't change the subject."

"It's late, and I'm tired, Obi-Wan. Please, we can talk when I return."

"No we can't. I'm deploying the day after tomorrow."

She blinked. "Deploying?"

He raised an eyebrow as he contemplated his sleeve. "I've been out of commision to long, and the Council has granted my request. I'm heading to the front lines almost immediately."

"You requested to be sent back to the front lines?" she squeaked. Images of him being unloaded from the medical ship filled her mind in rapid order. "You nearly died last time!"

His shrug did nothing to comfort her. "My being on diplomatic duty was always a temporary measure. As it is, my skills are in much greater demand on a battlefield than in a debate room."

"But…"

"The Chancellor wished that I tell you that he offers his condolences for your loss," he continued, as if she hadn't spoken. "He wants you to know that he understands that, even after so long of a time, there is still pain. A sentiment that I'm sure a Jedi would never understand."

Panic welled up in her. "Obi, no, I never meant…"

"Also, His Excellency has informed Padmé of Anakin's presence, and she requires an audience with you as soon as you return."

"Obi-Wan, please listen to me…"

"As it is likely that it will be some time before I return, I have removed any property of mine from your quarters. You need not trouble yourself with keeping accomodations for me, as I shall stay at the temple during my time on Coruscant."

This was wrong. This whole scenario was wrong. "Please, we can talk. Really talk, please Obi, please…"

Finally, an infinitesimal crack in the cold demeanor. "I'm sorry, Your Grace. Take care of yourself."

"No, Obi…" sobs choked her as the comm cut off, and she slammed her fist into the console. The pain barely registered as she sank to the floor and cried bitterly.

* * *

Ahsoka had just left Acca's office when a familiar presence caught her attention.

Ducking around a corner, she scanned the nearly empty halls, wondering if it had just been her imagination. But no, Tre Gotri was striding down the halls, the insignia of Republic Intelligence on her jumpsuit sleeve.

But how?

Ahsoka, Padmé, the Duchess, Master Kenobi, and Acca had all given their testimony, and the Chancellor had assured them that he would personally see to it that Gotri would be found and punished to the full extent of the law.

And yet, here she was, walking like a woman on a mission through the Senate halls.

More than a little suspicious, Ahsoka followed her, making sure to stay well behind. The vast halls did little to provide cover, but she managed to follow the woman to her destination unnoticed.

The Chancellor's office.

Her comm unit chimed, and she swore under her breath as she saw the message from Master an eye on the door to the Chancellor's office, she answered it. "Hello?"

"Ahsoka, where are you? I've been trying to comm you for the past half hour."

"I'm still at the Senate building, but…"

"I need you to come to my coordinates. I've found the man with the lead about Gotri, but he's not friendly to me. Perhaps you can convince him…"

"Gotri's here, Master," she hissed.

That brought him up short. "What? Where?"

"She just went in to see Palpatine"

"Perhaps she doesn't know, yet…"

"It's nearly been two months, surely she would have heard about it by now." She frowned. "Something's off."

"I agree. I'm on my way. If she leaves before I arrive, follow her and turn on your tracker. If you can get some information, fine, but whatever you do, don't let her see you. The last thing we need is for her to be wary of us."

"Got it."

"And Ahsoka?"

"Yeah?"

"Be safe."

* * *

 **And the flames heat up as we enter the second quarter.**

 **For all of you who are not following me or haven't noticed, the first chapter in Anakin's POV is up. You can find it on my profile under** _ **Vanished: Master Chapters**_ **. Thank you for giving my story a hundred followers, it really means a lot to me. One more favorite, six more follows until the next two chapters! I apologize if there might be a delay, as I am a great procrastinator and have yet to finish said chapters.**

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 **Sunmoonwindandstars: Yes, truth is a certain point of view, Luke.**

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 **MumsieDo: I wonder what nefarious plan Palpy has now?**

 **Rambling anOn: I think she is…**

 **stingerfan: More like a cauldron, if you ask me.**

 **nurbb: Finally, someone who's sympathetic to Satine!**

 **phhsdj: He sure does.**

 _ **Chapter Trivia: I was originally going to have Obi-Wan tell Padm**_ é _**about Anakin, but decided against it at the last minute.**_


	20. Chapter Nineteen: Mission

Satine dragged herself off of the floor, finally becoming annoyed with the incessant beeping from her comm unit. It wasn't as if it was an incoming comm, not that she cared if it was, anyway, but it was a message.

From the Chancellor.

Stifling a groan, she pressed listen.

* * *

"You have a comm on line two, Milady."

Padmé pushed aside the datapad she had perusing, happy to have a distraction. "Thank you, Dormé. Put it through, please."

Her comm unit flickered to life, and she nearly groaned when she saw the Chancellor. Of all the people… "Your Excellency."

His face lit up in what she might have imagined to be delight. "Ah, Senator, I caught you. Good, good." She forced a smile. "I hate to bother you, but I have a small favor to ask of you…"

* * *

"A mission?" Obi-Wan asked incredulously. "Now?"

Mace Windu shrugged, tenting his fingers. "We've already alerted your men. Master Secura will take your place."

"But… I thought I was being taken off of diplomatic duty?"

"The orders came from the Chancellor himself. He thinks you're more effective as an ambassador than on the front lines." The Jedi Master raised an eyebrow. "To be frank, we agree."

* * *

Filled with new vigor, Satine quickly began to type out her second and third messages.

 _Dear Padmé,_

 _As I will not be returning to Coruscant for an extended amount of time, I have a favor to ask you. I've left an important document in Obi-Wan's room, at my apartment. Could you retrieve it and send it to me? My door code is 7481._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Satine_

 _Master Kenobi,_

 _I apologize that I will not be able to deliver this in person, but I feel it is better this way. If you will, please go to my bedroom. There is a wooden box in the top middle drawer. It is yours._

 _I'm sorry_

* * *

The light on her comm blinked on, but Padmé ignored it. She was already dressed in her travelling suit, her bags were already packed, the air already parked on her private landing pad, and her mind firmly fixed on the mission ahead of her.

Yet, as she made her way to the door, she hesitated. Eventually, curiosity won out and she picked up her comm, determined to look at her message on her way.

* * *

Obi-Wan felt his heart sink as he approached the landing pad. Dozens of reporters awaited with datapads and cameras ready, and at least twenty speeders, doubtlessly containing papparazzi, circled in the air.

Stifling a sigh, he went to park his speeder at the edge of the pad, only to see one already there, and a very familiar female figure climbing out of it.

Her eyes met his, and she froze, her eyes widening with something akin to fear.

The box.

He hadn't looked in it, or even had any great desire to when he had thrown it in with the few other possesions he had collected from her apartment on his way. But now, intense curiosity burned as he wondered exactly what was in it.

Her lips parted, then pressed back together into a smile as the press crowded around her, sending off rapid fire questions. Her eyes met his for a split second, and he saw the apology in them.

Apology for what?

He had to look in that box.

"Senator Amidala!" As one, the press abandoned Satine to swarm around the newest arrival, and he could sense the panic radiating off of the Duchess.

And if the glare Padmé shot her way was any indication, this was going to be a long trip.

* * *

Satine sank into the soft cushions of the sofa, feeling sick to her stomach.

"It was him all along, wasn't it?" Padmé seethed. "All this time that he's been 'missing', you knew exactly where he was, didn't you?"

"No. I swear I had no knowledge of his location until that night." She ran a hand through her hair, loosening it from the tight bun she had put it in. "I wanted to tell you, Padmé, gods know I did, but he… he didn't want you to know."

Padmé let out a bitter laugh. "Yes, of course. Did you even think to ask me what I wanted? Wether I wanted to be kept in the dark?"

Obi-Wan touched her arm. "Padmé, you must understand. He wouldn't stay if we told you. If he had left, he would have died, and neither of us were willing to risk that."

Padmé crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. "So why did you think now was a good time to tell me?"

Satine exhaled slowly. "I was never planning to return to Coruscant after I finished this mission, and had not the slightest idea that you were to be accompanying me. But I wanted you to know without breaking my promise." she whimpered softly, looking down at her lap. "Both of you."

The box appeared in front of her, and she looked up to see Obi-Wan crouched in front of her. "I haven't opened it," he admitted, his eyes searching hers. "I'm not sure I want to."

She laughed through her tears. "I don't want you to."

"The box?" Padmé stalked over stiffly, her face screwed into a scowl even though curiosity shone in her eyes. "Just open it, Obi-Wan."

He sat back. "I thought you were angry."

"I am. But I was curious before I was angry." she peered over his shoulder. "What's in it?"

"I don't know. Satine just gave it to me."

"So open it, for foce sakes!" She shot Satine a glare. "And don't you try to talk him out of it."

Obi-Wan shushed her. "Will I be angry at you if I open it?"

"I doubt that anger will be a quarter of what you'll feel."

His eyes widened slightly, and he regarded the box with a look of alarm. "I see."

She stood abruptly, the courage that had just fired her blood suddenly abandoning her. "I'll be in my quarters if you need me."

For five minutes, she sat in her room and waited. Once, she got up and went to the door to see if she could hear anything, but there was only silence. Then, footsteps sounded, and she hurried back to her bed and picked up the book she had been trying to read.

When the door slid open, she didn't look up, staring numbly at the page in front of her. A sudden rush of tears blurred her vision, and she tried to blink them away, to no avail.

Strong arms pulled her into an embrace, and the hair of his beard scratched her cheek as he whispered into her ear.

"I forgive you."

* * *

Padmé stared at the items scattered over the table. A soft pair of tiny baby's boots. A holoviewer with several dozen holos of a young Satine with a tiny baby in her arms, looking both exhausted and proud. A statement from a medic, listing a live birth at a clinic on Kalevla. A holo of a very dirty and scraggly looking Obi-Wan and Satine. And finally, an article detailing the tragic bombing of the Duchess's home.

It made everything clearer. The seemingly perpetual cloud of despondancy that had lurked over her friend as long as she could remember. The tension between her and Obi-Wan. The yearly trips to her home.

She'd lost a child.

In some ways, Padmé wanted to be angry with her. After all, she had never told them anything. But if she had been in the same position…

Obi-Wan had taken it with relative calmness, in her opinion. He'd gone through the box in record time, his face darkening with each new object or holo until she was sure that he was going to explode.

But then, he'd seen the article. His face had gone ashen, and he'd muttered something in a language she didn't understand. He'd gone through it all again, slower this time, a sheen over his eyes as he'd looked at the holos.

A baby. Satine and Obi-Wan had had a _baby_. Obi-Wan was a father. A little girl. Satine had never told him. Two weeks. She had died when she was only two weeks old. A baby.

None of it made sense, and yet it all did.

She had recognized the dates, and it had been easy enough to guess what had happened. The baby had been born the day after Qui-Gonn's death. The day that Anakin had officially become a Jedi padawan. Obi-Wan's padawan.

And only two weeks later, she had died.

Padmé tried imagining what it might have been like. She wouldn't have told anyone either. After all, it was already after the fact, wasn't it? No need for anyone to think any differently.

But someone did. Hadn't Obi-Wan said that Palpatine had been the one to hint at it in the beginning?

An uneasy feeling crept over her, and she glanced at the door. If Satine had never told anyone, then how did Palpatine know? And why was he saying something now?

* * *

Ahsoka had been following Tre for two days straight.

At Obi-Wan's suggestion, Ahsoka had gone to ask Palpatine the next day about the headway Intelligence had made on locating the woman, but he had simply said that there was not enough proof that it was Gotri who had orchestrated the attack, so it was impossible to convict her and she had been returned to her previous position.

So, they had been forced to settle on figuring out what her agenda was.

During the two days, Ahsoka had found relatively little on the spy. She lived in the actual Intelligence Headquarters, and left her room at exactly half past six every morning. From 06.35 to noon, she worked diligently in her office. Then, at exactly 12.00 every day, she had left her office and went to the HQ cafeteria. Then, at 12.45, she went to the gym and trained until 17.00. From the gym, she went back to her apartment for a half hour, long enough to tak a shower and change, and at 17.45, she left the HQ. From there, she went to the Chancellor's office, stayed there for an hour and fifteen minutes, and returned back to Intelligence at 19.30. One last trip to the office, and she was back in her apartment at 20.00, just an hour before they called light's out.

For the last two days she had done the same thing.

Ahsoka slowly pulled her rented speeder out of the docking bay in the building next door, contemplating the true dangers of getting a drink after a stressful evening. Acca had commed her to say that her and her friends were going out to get drinks, and that Ahsoka was welcome to come, but she wasn't sure it was a good idea when she had to be up at five the next morning to trail Tre again.

She had just settled that a single drink would make little difference when a speeder cut her off in traffic.

Tre Gotri's speeder.

The automatic angry retort died in her throat, and she quickly pulled into the same lane as the boring gray speeder. It was like all of the other Intelligence ones, sleek and nondescript.

Carefully, she managed to maneuver closer, if a lane below. The perfect way to tail someone without being watched.

The speeder made it's way along a long and complicated route, crossing and recrossing it's paths, going in circles and turnarounds several times over. To the unexperienced eye, it seemed to be someone who was lost.

To Ahsoka, it was someone who was being careful to not be followed.

She almost succeeded. Ahsoka lost track of the speeder no less than a dozen times, but here Tre's erratic driving came in handy. No sooner than she would believe herself to have lost her, there she would be again, coming in a circle. Dizzying, perhaps, but still useful.

After an hour, they finally entered into the luxury residential area, only a few blocks away from the Intelligence building.

Tre circled through the district several times before finally landing in one of the more modest buildings. Ahsoka circled once, twice, then landed in the docking bay several levels below. She would waste time, but she'd rather do that than risk being caught.

There was only one turbolift, which was pressed the button, counting the seconds before it arrived. Then, estimating the amount of time it took to pass each floor, she deducted the approximate level. As she waited to approach it, she suddenly noticed something.

This was the complex that Obi-Wan and Satine stayed in, and the same level.

A sudden feeling of dread gnawed at her.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

* * *

When the message had come from the Duchess several hours before, Acca had barely been able to believe it.

Master was alive! He was at her apartment, and he wanted to see her! Her, Acca Krey, Senator of the Ehren!

She had left her office as soon as she could, not even stopping at her apartment to change out of her Senatorial , she had gone straight to the _Colinth_ , as the complex was called.

He looked different, she had to concede. His hood was gone, but it she liked his face much better. He wasn't as handsome as Hono, or Teeto, or even Joka, but he still was nice enough for a human.

One of his arms were gone, like Tera's _Pati_ , but he didn't seem to mind. He had told her that as soon as the bandages were taken off, the Duchess was going to give him a new one, and he would be super strong and wouldn't feel pain in it.

Then she had said that she wished she could get a new toe, because she was always stubbing it on their new furniture and that way it would never hurt.

He'd just laughed and called her a funny word that she'd never heard he'd asked her to tell him all that had happened since he was gone, and how Ami was, and how she liked being a Senator.

She had, trying to remember not to call him Master anymore, because he always seemed a little sad when she did. So she told him all about the elections they had held, and how one of the new Leaders had gotten empeared because he'd tried to steal by frogulent means.

Then he'd chuckled and told her that she meant impeached and fraudulent means, and she told him that Basic was really hard to learn.

They'd talked for another hour before the doorbell rang. Because he wasn't supposed to get up, she had gone to the door and peeked out.

She smiled when she saw the nice Chancellor who always said she was his favorite senator and the pretty lady who always came to visit her and the others and brought them special gifts.

Tre had even taken them all to her favorite bar one night and treated them all to drinks. She'd also introduced her to a really nice guy who had taken her back to her apartment after she'd fallen asleep. Then the next morning Tre had come over and given her and the others something to drink that had taken away their headaches.

Acca liked Tre.

Both Tre and the Chancellor had been coming to see Master, they said, and had decided to come together. Tre had even brought him a gift.

So they both knew about the Master too! And they both liked him!

Ami didn't like Master. Ami was very angry at Master and didn't like it when Acca talked about him, so she didn't.

But the nice Chancellor and Tre both liked Master. That was why the Duchess must have told them!

So, Acca led them in.

* * *

 **Poor Acca! She has no idea what is about to happen!**

 **For those of you who don't follow me, Anakin's POV part two is up! You can find it on my profile under** _ **Vanished: Master Chapters**_ **. Only one more review on here until the next chapter!**

 **Thank you to The-Captain-Widow, Jedi Master Megan, Alayla240, Raineskylar, BlueEyedBrigadier, and for all of the favorites and follows! You guys are awesome!**

 **MumsieDo: I hope you didn't, because it seems that Palpy's disastrous deeds have only begun!**

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 _ **Trivia: This is Acca's first POV.**_


	21. Chapter Twenty: Intuitions

Two hours after he had gone to sleep, Satine stared up at the ceiling, trying to piece together whatever was left of her kriffed up life.

The last four months had truly been the most trying of her life. The last four hours had been the most liberating.

For once, she felt free, the weight of the world lifted from her shoulders. There was nothing for her to hide anymore, and she was going to do her best to keep it that way.

Her thoughts wandered back to Anakin, still in her apartment. He would get both of her messages soon, and it was all too likely he would have left by the time she returned. As it was, he had been eager to leave the apartment for a few days, growing antsy from staying in bed. He was still weak, she knew, and she could only hope he would trust her meddroid's advice when it told him to stay.

But when had Anakin ever listened to anything anyone had said?

She replayed the events from Ehren over in her mind, and winced as she remembered her actions. Because of what she had done, both of her friends were hurting.

Or was it?

The question was one that she had contemplated too many times. If she had told Padmé, what would her reaction have been? And Anakin… would he have left without an explanation? Would he have come to her when he was injured?

Padmé, she was pretty certain about. The woman might have thrown a temper tantrum at the former Jedi, but she would have likely welcomed him back. Eventually.

Anakin, on the other hand…

She couldn't help but remember the fear in his eyes when she had told him she was going to inform Padmé of his presence. He'd stiffened, already looking prepared to bolt, and she had little doubt that he would have.

What might he have done if she had confronted Padmé on Ehren? Would he have disappeared? Concocted another fool scheme of revenge to deny his love? Possibly attempt to use the moment to actually sleep with her, only to break her heart later?

Perhaps he wouldn't have. Perhaps they would have had a joyful reunion and would have lived happily ever after.

Or…

Perhaps he would have done something worse. Perhaps they would have been forever split, never to reunite and never to truly acknowledge the apparent truth that lay before the both of them.

She groaned, rubbing her temples as her headache worsened. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. Too much uncertainty.

She prayed she would never again be forced into that place of precariousness.

* * *

The reversion alert jerked her awake unceremoniously.

Padmé barely managed to drag herself out of bed as the loud grumbling in the next room assured her that Obi-Wan was awake. It was at times like these that she regretted taking the position of copilot. Satine occasionally took the spot, but more often than not the duty was left up to her.

Picking up her dress from where she had abandoned it the night before, Padmé tugged it over her head. Already she had a bad feeling about the mission, and that was never a good sign.

The very fact that _Palpatine_ had assigned it to them rang warning bells. Usually, their orders had just been sent to them on a schedule, not as a personal request from the Chancellor.

The same Chancellor who had gone to both her and Obi-Wan with information on Satine. It was as if he wanted them to all be angry during the trip. But why? Anger would only serve to cloud their true intentions, and would most certainly create discord, the last thing anyone wanted for an ambassador.

Unless that was what he wanted.

It was the only logical solution. He had wanted for there to be strife among them. But what was his motive? For the mission to fail? For them to unwittingly prolong the war? To portray the Republic in a bad light? None of it made sense. Surely he would have known they were too intelligent to fall for that.

" _Padmé!"_

She snapped out of her ponderings, hurrying into the cockpit. Obi-Wan glared at her as she slid into the seat beside him, the displeasure clear on his face.

"What took you so long?"

She grumbled under her breath as she set the ship for reversion. "It's not as if you truly need me here to land the ship. You would have done just fine on your own."

"Well aren't you just a bundle of sunshine this morning?" The dry sarcasm was back in full force, and she fought the urge to smile.

"I hope you don't mind that I slept in your bed. You and Satine seemed… preoccupied, and I didn't want to intrude," she said casually after a few minutes of silence.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "I'm used to having my privacy encroached upon. She's already been gracious enough to give me a place to stay for the past month, so it was not too difficult of an adjustment."

"She said you were close when you were younger…"

His eyebrows raised. "I would think you would know, seeing as there was a child."

Point. "Did you love her?"

"Yes." His eyes lightened, and just a hint of a smile touched his lips. "I think I did from the first time I saw her."

"But you left," she stated, tilting her head to the side. "If you loved her, why didn't you stay?"

"It was the right thing to do." His eyes grew distant. "Cerasi was very much like Satine. A staunch pacifist, standing up against her warrior ancestors for peace. When Qui-Gonn boarded the ship at the end of our mission, I stayed behind. Not long after, she was killed. The Jedi accepted me back, of course, but it still made a strong impression on me.

"The day we were to leave Mandalore, I was prepared to do the same thing, no matter the consequences. But she never asked. She wouldn't ask. So I left."

She was just about to ask another question when the comm unit crackled to life. " _Unidentified Republic cruiser, state your destination and purpose."_

* * *

Ahsoka crouched behind an upturned barrel, her blue eyes fixed on the dilapidated building across from her.

It had been almost three hours since Gotri and Palpatine had left, leaving the two captives now, night was falling, and her visibility was being reduced.

The perfect cover for smuggling something. Or in this case, someone.

She was in one of the most run down areas of Coruscant. Hidden in a nook on the eighth story of an abandoned apartment building, she could see all the entrances to the old factory that the Chancellor had taken Anakin and Acca into. It had been impossible for her to stop them at Satine and Obi-Wan's apartment, so she had followed them here.

Where it was still impossible to stop them.

A few dozen thugs guarded the two exits of the ancient factories, heavy duty blasters in their hands. She shuddered, rubbing her side. The blaster burn she had acquired on Ehren had healed, but she did not relish the idea of receiving another.

Once again, she cursed herself for forgetting her comm unit. After so long of not carrying one, she had yet to adjust to remembering it every time she left her quarters.

And she had never wanted it more than now.

Sitting back on her heels, she contemplated going to the temple to get backup. She had no idea when the two were going to be coming back to move their prisoners to a more permanent place, but it was getting dark. Alone, she could do nothing.

But if she left…

Indecision tore at her, but finally the backup won out. _After_ she got a look inside.

Or not.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the hum of a speeder brought her to awareness. Gotri was alone this time, her eyes scanning the area cautiously as she approached. This speeder was bigger, and darker as well, seeming to blend into the night.

So Ahsoka had been right. They were taking them tonight.

The woman stopped the speeder only a few feet away from the factory entrance, beckoning to the goons. The men gathered around her, greedy sneers on their faces as the one she assumed to be the leader spoke.

" _You're ?"_

Tre shook her head, saying something in a low tone. The leader looked displeased, but he nodded to the men. Two of them ducked into the building, returning with a very bloody and beaten Anakin.

" _What about the girl?"_

A contemptuous smirk tugged at Tre's lips, and Ahsoka could clearly read the words on her lips.

" _Have your way with her."_

* * *

"And this will be your room for the duration of your stay." Creusa Hagendi's unsettlingly silver eyes never left him as she stepped aside. The feral smirk that curled up the corner of her lips made him draw back. "I apologize, Master, for the inconvenience, but there are only two rooms."

Obi-Wan forced a smile, trying to shake the unease he felt. "I'm sure we'll all be very comfortable, thank you."

Disappointment radiated from her, the silver orbs trailing lazily over his body. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me, Master."

Satine muttered something under her breath, and the woman shot her a glare before sauntering away, hips swaying.

Padmé snorted. "There really is no end to your admirers, is there Obi-Wan?"

"It's the beard," Satine said darkly. "It makes him look mature. Usually, maturity equals to experience, and for women like that, experience is everything."

He chuckled, following them into the small living area. "I never knew you to be prejudiced."

"Exceptions can always be made." She sank onto one of the sofa's with a sigh. "Do you think they'd mind if I would take a short nap while we wait for dinner?"

"I don't think they would object, but I wouldn't advise it." He looked around the room. "Just in case anything happens, it would be best to stay on guard."

Her eyes opened quickly, and she sat up. "Do you sense something?"

He hesitated, seeing the fear already beginning to creep into their eyes. "I feel uneasy," he admitted. "Something's off, but…" he shook his head, running a hand through his hair tiredly.

Satine touched his shoulder gently. "Don't worry. We'll be alert, watch for anything suspicious. No different from before, right?"

"We've grown too complacent. We've become accustomed to missions going right, with no sense of threat and danger. But after the incident on Ehren…" Padmé shuddered. "Someone wants us dead, enough to cause a Republic Intelligence agent to attack us."

"They're rich, then." Satine's lips pressed together into a narrow line. "No agent would switch sides for any little sum of money. They know how the business works; they're going to want coverage just in case something goes wrong."

Padmé nodded. "I think they have some connection to the Chancellor." He turned to her, interested. "Doesn't it seem suspicious that he was the one to come to us about Satine?"

Satine looked slightly uncomfortable. "I thought the same thing, but I didn't want to say it. I can understand that he may have found out about Anakin, but my daughter? I never told anyone about her, didn't even have a healer at the birth. Kalevala was still a mess when she was born, and there was no true record system. It took two days for the clinic to have an opening to look at her, and she was only recorded as a foundling orphan whose parents had likely been killed in the war."

He sighed, sitting next to her. "I'm not certain how Palpatine knows what he does, but I have reason to believe that Padmé is right. Padawan Tano approached the Chancellor about Tre Gotri, the Intelligence agent, after seeing her one day. Palpatine has called off any investigation involving her, saying that there is not enough evidence."

Padmé shot to her feet. "Not enough evidence? Obi-Wan, we were nearly killed! They had a whole kriffing fleet trying to make sure we didn't get away! And we were eye witnesses, sworn in and documented."

"Intelligence has excused their actions by saying they were rescuing us from 'the Master', who had us imprisoned and refused to allow us passage." He rubbed the side of his face. "Which is true, in it's own way. The only way to prove otherwise would be to produce actual evidence that the Master was not holding us against our will, and as there is no such person, there is nothing we can do."

Satine swore harshly. "And if Anakin were to testify?"

"We have no proof that he is the Master. As it is, I have a personal connection to him, and bringing him forward would only help the claim that I was in coercion with him to collaborate your deaths." When they began to protest, he held up a hand. "It's true. There have been rumors that I set the whole situation up to cause your deaths."

"Ridiculous." Padmé scoffed. "So there's truly nothing that we could do?"

He sighed. "For now, no. I left Ahsoka to investigate Tre's motives and plans, but I would still suggest that you exercise caution in whatever you do."

Padmé's face softened. "We'll be cautious, Obi-Wan, don't worry. We'll finish the mission. We always do."

And even with the foreboding feeling pressing him down, Obi-Wan hoped she was right.

* * *

 **So, long time no see! I know, I know, I haven't updated in forever, and I'm truly sorry. But, if you didn't know, the school year has started again and it's been kicking me in the behind. But, here's your chapter!**

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 **Trivia: We've already past the halfway mark! I'm thinking maybe ten, twelve more chapters and we'll be done with Vanished!**


	22. Chapter Twenty-One: Demands

Colier's whole body ached from being cramped up for so long, but he ignored it. A little pain for his master was nothing, especially after all he had done for him. As it was, this was a drop in the bucket compared to the pain that _he_ had put him through. He held back a shudder at the memories, carefully shifting to take some of the pressure off of his injured leg.

Absently, he wondered what Matri was doing. Master- or Anakin, as he said his name was- had given him the more important job. Taking care of Ami.

It was confusing, the way Master Anakin acted towards the Senator Amidala, for that was her name. He was in love with her, that Colier was sure of, but he continued to hide from her like a kicked puppy. How was one supposed to make the girl fall in love with him if he never saw her?

The fact that he had Matri watching her every move did little to help. No woman wanted their every move to be followed. Stalking, they called it, and the girls in the books he had read never seemed to like it. It was something that the evil ex or the creepy pervert would do.

But when had he understood Master Anakin? The man had a mind entirely of his own. He'd pretended to be dead for three years, after all, and had saved him and Matri from _him_. Apparently, he'd also kidnapped Ahsoka to avoid blackmail, though they both disagreed strongly on that , there was the fact that he had been hiding in the Duchess's guest bedroom for the past few weeks.

No, he would never understand Master Anakin.

It had been pure luck, really, that he had passed the speeder when he did. He'd done a double take when he saw Gotri, but it had only taken one glance to be certain of the man slumped in the passenger seat.

Why she had brought him here, to the Senate building, he didn't know. She had gone right into the Chancellor's private docking bay, half a dozen clone troopers rushing out to help unload the unconscious man. Even from where he had been, Colier had seen the hooded figure in the shadows, flanked by Palpatine's personal red guards.

It had taken Colier nearly an hour to get where he was now, in the venting right above the room they were holding him in. The Chancellor- for that was exactly who the hooded figure turned out to be- entered the room, Tre at his side. "Rest well, my boy?"

Anakin glared at the man with his good eye, the right one blackened and swollen shut. His right arm, torn off at the elbow in the crash that had nearly cost them their lives, hung limp by his side, the other one tethered to the stake he was tied to. From where he was, he couldn't see if they were force inhibiting, but he had a good idea that they were. After all, Gotri wasn't an idiot. She had shown that when she shot down their ship a few systems over.

Thank the force that he and Matri had decided to tag along.

Palpatine seemed to understand that Anakin had no wish to reply, and the benevolent smile vanished. "I'm truly sorry it came to this. If only you had followed my advice…" the old man's cackle raised the hairs on Colier's neck. "It was so simple, and you were doing excellent. Even my own detectives had given up any hope of your recovery."

What was he talking about?

"...and you had to go and ruin it." Palpatine's voice trailed off into a hiss, and Colier blinked as his eyes glowed a sickly gold. "You let her go," he growled, his white hands quivering. "And when I sent Tre to take care of any loose ends, you turned hero and betrayed me."

Anakin glared at him, pulling against his bonds. "You lied to me," he forced out between clenched teeth, quivering with rage. "I never worked for you, and force knows I'm glad of it."

"SILENCE!" Colier jerked back as electric bolts seemed to shoot from the Chancellor's wrinkly fingers, causing Anakin to cry out in pain. "It was all so simple. Do you think it was coincidence that the Senator crashed on the very same planet you were on? You were to take care of her, to crush her. You had three years to remember her betrayal, to _hate_ her. And what do you do? You let her go!"

"Leave her out of this!" Anakin yelled hoarsely. "Your quarrel is with me, not with her."

Once again, the cackle escaped the man's lips, and he smirked cruelly. "Oh, but I'm afraid that is impossible, my dear boy. The Senator and her little crew have long been a thorn in my side, and I have the perfect solution to both of my problems." At his look, Tre turned on a large comm unit in the center of the room.

A curvy female being appeared, her pale eyes seeming to glow even through the call. "Yes, Lord Sidious?"

The Chancellor's bleeding golden eyes glittered in the darkened room. "You have permission to kill Amidala and her friends."

The rawness of Anakin's shout tore nearly tore Colier in two, and he forced himself to look away from the Master's stricken countenance.

The woman, on the other hand, seemed to have little concern for the man's feelings, her lips curling up into a wicked grin. "But of course, Master."

* * *

Obi-Wan glared up at the ceiling, unsure of how the situation had turned against him so swiftly.

Even from the sofa, he could hear Satine's soft laughter through the bedroom door. She had been on the comm for nearly an hour, talking to her nephew and sister. Since their return, Bo-Katan Kryze had made large efforts to reconcile with her sister and nephew, even coming to visit his and Satine's apartment on Coruscant. For now, the three seemed to be talking about family memories, none of which that included him.

"She put you out here?"

He looked over to see Padmé standing in her room doorway, a small smile on her face as she glanced at Satine's door. "She wanted her privacy."

Padmé straightened her sleeves, sitting down on the couch opposite him. "I wonder what Anakin's doing."

"Probably dissecting Satine's household appliances." He stretched, trying to reverse some of the damage the ornamental couch had already done to his back. "He's been stir-crazy for the past few days. But I suppose being in bed for a week will do that to a man."

She bit her lip. "How badly was he injured?"

He hesitated, unsure of how much to tell her. "It was… bad to see the least. He was delirious from the blood loss, and so weak his guards had to carry him to the door."

The blood drained from her face, but she pressed her lips together in a show of determination. "What…" she cleared her throat and began again, the wobble in her voice diminished. "How did it happen?"

"According to Matri, they were shot down a few systems over." Yet another crime attributed to Gotri. "Colier was injured in the crash as well, though not nearly to the degree that Anakin was. Apparently, it was his idea to go to Coruscant. They had just so happened to see an ad for our apartment complex boasting that the Duchess was in residence."

"But he's better now?" She twisted her hands together, her eyes wide and frightened.

"He's improving, though it will still be awhile before he's back to himself again." He pictured the boy from when he had left him, covered in bacta pads and bruises. "I'm worried about him, though. He's… unhappy."

Her face fell. "Because of me."

Blast it. He hadn't thought about her when he had said it, but that didn't change the facts. "He is unhappy about his situation," Obi-Wan said slowly, trying to find a way to truthfully paraphrase it. "And though that is irrevocably connected to you, it is his own doing that hinders him from being happy."

Despite the reassurance, she still seemed downcast, her dark eyes growing moist with unshed tears. "I never meant to hurt him. I just… I didn't think about it, I suppose. It seemed perfectly natural, and I… I thought it was what he wanted. And now…"

Sensing the imminent shower of tears mixed with guilt, Obi-Wan grasped for any source of comfort. "I don't think he feels any anger towards you, but more towards himself. He…" The hairs on the back of his neck rose as a sense of foreboding rang through the force. "Something's wrong."

Padmé jumped to her feet. "What is it?"

"I don't…" the keen sense of urgency filled him. "We have to go. Now." Ignoring the warning that shot through the force, he ran in the direction of Satine's room, intent on getting her out even as he yelled for Padmé to go.

Everything seemed to slow down in the next second, a moment of silence as the world around him exploded in blinding color.

* * *

Ahsoka stared at the receiver, slack jawed. The room was silent, but she could hear the dissonance from the council through the force.

Finally, Mace Windu looked at her. "You knew."

There was no question of what he was asking her, and no way to argue that she didn't. "Yes."

"And you told no one."

"I was sworn to secrecy. Master Kenobi thought it best to keep his identity a secret until Master had a better understanding on how he was to proceed."

Ki-Adi Mundi frowned. "Master Kenobi would never have encouraged such rebelliousness."

"But Skywalker was his apprentice," Shaak Ti reminded him. "He might have been persuaded to do so if he believed it would bring him back."

Mace frowned. "Obi-Wan has been disturbed of late. It would not be the first time he withheld information for what he believed to be the greater good. He was, after all, the apprentice of Jinn." A master that had bucked against the council until his very death, to hear Obi-Wan tell it.

"Be that as it may, what is to be done now?" Master Ti clasped her hands together, her face holding a serenity that belied the chaotic state of the force. "Palpatine- or Sidious, as he is- has Skywalker, who may very well be the Chosen One."

"Then we rescue him," Ahsoka stated matter-of-factly, unsure of where the conflict resided. "What's so hard about that?"

The council members didn't look away from her, but she could sense them mentally communing. "Such things take time, young one," Adi Gallia said gently.

"But wouldn't it be better to strike now?" She braced herself against the curious looks from all sides. "Palpatine's taking of Anakin is obviously a hasty move. It would be nearly impossible to secure reasonable guards at such short notice without drawing attention, so he's nearly defenseless. He's planning to move him soon, otherwise he wouldn't have taken the risk of bringing him to the Senate building. That also means that he has no immediate plans to visit Anakin, which leaves the possibility that he may make a bid to destroy him."

The astonishment from the council was tangible through the force, and Ahsoka fought the urge to smile smugly. Once again, she could sense their deliberation, and soft murmurs went through the room.

Finally, from his seat at the head of the room, Yoda cleared his throat, and the council fell silent, all looking towards him expectantly. "Right, you are, young Tano. Take action, we must." His ears drooped slightly, and sadness seemed to envelope the Jedi Master. "Much suffering, I sense. Caution, we must take, or many deaths, we will incur."

Mace seemed to deliberate for a moment before sitting forward and steepling his fingers in front of him. "Surprisingly, I agree with you." The corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement when she blinked, and his hand hovered over the call button on his armrest. "Do you believe that Skywalker is the Chosen One?"

"I do."

He nodded, once before pressing the button.

* * *

 **So, I was going to write some more in this chapter, but I decided you guys have been held off long enough. I apologize that updates are so slow, but I'm preparing for a business trip with my school, and it's harrowing. Thank you for being patient with me!**

 **On a second note, my e-mail is finicky, so I'm not going to be able to reply to my reviews or followers/favorites. I'm really sorry!**

 **Also, Vanished is coming to an end! I'm guesstimating that we'll have ten more chapters, and perhaps an epilogue. I had originally planned to have three arcs (The Ehren Arc, The Palpatine Arc, and an arc devoted to Anidala fluff), but Anidala has never been my first pairing, and consequentially is not the one I am well acquainted with and not entirely comfortable with writing. So there will probably not be an extensive length of Anidala reunion. My most heartfelt apologies, and I hope that you are not too disappointed.**

 **Also, as an apology for updating so late, I will be uploading chapter 4 in the Master edition in a few days, so be on the lookout for that!**

 **Trivia: Five people are going to die in the next chapter. I wonder who?**


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two: Culmination

It didn't take long for them to realize that Palpatine had been expecting them.

The sight of Colier's bloodied and lifeless body had been the first clue to Ahsoka. After all, he had been the one to send them the transmission outlining Palpatine's plans, so if he had been discovered…

The second clue was more subtle, but just as powerful. The Chancellor himself was sitting in a sort of throne at the head of the darkened room, his eyes glowing a sickly yellow as he watched the Jedi with no apparent concern. Indeed, he even gave them the expectant smile of a predator whose prey had just wandered into his den.

The third clue was perhaps the one that surprised them the least. The utter defeat that dulled Anakin's red-rimmed blue eyes told her everything.

They had made a grave mistake.

"Master Jedi, how good of you to come on such short notice." Palpatine's words oozed false sincerity, making Ahsoka's skin crawl. "It seems as if there has been a slight misunderstanding between us. Anakin here tells me you didn't know who I was."

Ahsoka fought the urge to scoff. Not realizing that the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic was the Sith lord they were looking for was more than a _slight misunderstanding_.

Master Windu tensed, igniting his lightsaber, in turn prompting the rest of them to do the same. "In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic, you are under arrest."

Palpatine's eyes went to the humming plasma, but only briefly. "Are you threatening me, Master Jedi?"

Mace didn't bat an eye. "The Senate will decide your fate."

Molten gold mixed with sickly red in a ghastly combination. "I am the Senate!"

Before she could make sense of what was happening, he was there, far faster than any man of his age should have been permitted to move, red plasma humming dangerously as it sank into Master Agen Kolar.

And in an instant, the room exploded into chaos.

* * *

They never should have come.

Obi-Wan stared at her, wishing that he could go back and relive the past 24 hours differently. If only he had listened to his gut and made them leave while they still could…

But now it was too late.

The door to the cockpit slid open, and Matri stepped out, looking sober. "We should be on Coruscant in eight hours." His eyes drifted to the single cabin, where Padmé's sobs could be heard. "She will be alright?"

 _No._ he wanted to shout. _It will never be 'alright' again, can't you see?_

His chest ached, his eyes stung, and his throat seemed to tighten. His hand tightened around Satine's, already growing cold and stiff. They had waisted precious moments of escape time retrieving her body from the rubble, but he hadn't been able to leave her there.

She would have a funeral fit of the Duchess that she was. She deserved that.

 _I've always loved you, Obi-Wan._ He could still see the life fading away in her eyes even as she forced a smile. _Make my memorial beside hers_.

Force help him, he would. Even if it killed him.

Deep purple bruises were already beginning to mottle the fair skin, not easily erased by the already bloodied towel in his hand. Somehow, he had thought that if he could wipe away all the evidence of that moment, everything would go back to normal.

"Master?"

It wasn't until he saw the droplet of water on the pale skin that he realized that he was crying. It was an amazing thing, that. For years, he had been in control of his emotions. Then, somehow, he had met people. Satine. Anakin. Even Padmé. They made him come alive.

"I should have come earlier."

The boy's whispered words drew Obi-Wan out of his train of thought, causing him to go blank for a moment.

Part of him wanted to lash out, to use his grief to take advantage of Matri's shame. But the cold hand in his stopped him. It had been as much his fault as the boy's. He'd known something was wrong before they had even arrived, but had dismissed it as the disturbance of war, the animosity that was likely held by some less than satisfied government officials.

And she had died because of it.

"How did you know to come get us?"

Matri looked panicked, his eyes widening as he glanced back at the comm station. "Colier told me."

His brother. "How did he know?"

He swallowed. "Master, there was nothing you could have done. He would have taken him anyway, and you might have died if you tried to stop him. There was no way any of us could have stopped him, we didn't know. At least she's safe, that's all he would care about."

Obi-Wan had become quite adept at sensing bad things, and he didn't particularly like the looks of this one. "Matri, slow down and tell me exactly what happened."

* * *

Ahsoka wasn't entirely sure what happened.

She was going to die, she had been certain of it. Palpatine had already cut down over half of the Jedi Masters when he had turned his attention to her.

Her only goal in the battle had been to do one thing: free Anakin and get him to safety. She'd completed half of her mission, the freeing part, but she had just been about to drag her Master's half dead carcass towards the hangar bay when Palpatine had blew off the remaining Masters and flew at her, lightsaber flashing.

When the glowing plasma connected to her side, she mentally took back everything she ever said about blaster bolts. Yeah, they hurt, but they didn't feel like someone had decided to use you as a kriffing torch.

She squeezed her eyes shut as the world seemed to fall into slow motion. The agonizing pain in her side, the stench of burnt flesh to her nostrils, the weight of semi-conscious Anakin increasing the pull of gravity… it seemed to bring everything to a standstill.

And then, it was over.

Palpatine's eyes widened, the sickly golden red staring over her shoulder unseeingly, his mouth hung open in shock.

And a glowing line of plasma sticking directly out of his back.

The sith's blade switched off as he crumpled to the ground, dead.

* * *

Matri had once heard that Jedi were emotionless. They didn't love, they didn't cry, they didn't hate. Some would even say they were the perfect people. They never worried about getting attached, were well nigh invincible, and could do anything.

Technically, the first Jedi he had ever met were Ahsoka and Anakin, but they hardly counted. After all, he hadn't even known that they were Jedi until a couple months before.

So that put Master Kenobi as the first Jedi he had ever met. According to what he had heard, Obi-Wan Kenobi was the most Jedi-ish Jedi that had ever lived. So it had been something of a shock when he had met the man and found him to be very much a normal person.

He had attachments. He wasn't invincible. And he most certainly couldn't do anything.

He had loved the Duchess, and Matri was sure he had seen tears in the man's eyes went he had dug her body out of the rubble.

The hate was there as well, if not somewhat tempered.

Matri had been reluctant to tell him about all that had transpired on Coruscant since they left, but the Jedi had insisted. So Matri had told the story slowly, starting from the kidnapping of Anakin to the realization of the Jedi Council that Palpatine had been a _Sith Lord_ , whatever that was.

A stampede of emotions had gone through the older man's eyes, and he'd finally let go of the Duchess's hands, clenching them tightly as his eyes blazed, and a few choice words that even Anakin would be proud of found their way past his lips.

"What else did the council say?" he said softly, his voice low and controlled, belying the anger evident.

"They're sending a group to rescue Anakin and, hopefully, arrest the Chancellor." At least, that was what he had gotten from the comm. The Jedi had so many strange terms it was hard to tell anything with them.

"Arrest? The bloody bastard can't be arrested. Who will try him? He runs the courts, the senate, the military." He shook his head, decided. "No, he must die for his crimes. Too much innocent blood has been shed for him to live. And we don't even know the true extent of his deeds."

Death? "But…" he hesitated when the man looked at him. "Master… Anakin… said it is not the Jedi way to want revenge, no matter the circumstances."

That brought a laugh from the Jedi's lips, but the sound was devoid of amusement. "And I'm sure he followed that rule."

No, the Jedi were nothing like he had thought them to be. "Anakin wasn't a Jedi, so it didn't exactly count with him, I guess."

He snorted. "Sounds like an excuse he would use."

"Master…"

"No, no, I understand what you're trying to say." Obi-Wan looked back at the dead Duchess, his eyes softening somewhat. "Though I want nothing more than to see that her death is avenged, I will not have it tarnished by foul means. Palpatine will be taken care of, the council will see to that. And I," he stood, dusting off his leggings, "I believe I will retire. With the war over, the Jedi will no longer be in such dire need of my services, and I can go to some remote planet where I can live out what is left of my life in peace."

Matri felt as if his eyes were going to pop out of his head. "You mean… leave the Jedi Order?" Never had he heard of such a thing. "Is such a thing to be done?"

Obi-Wan smiled. 'I would be far from the first Jedi to leave. Anakin did it, after all, and seemed to do pretty well. How hard can it be?" He ran a hand over his face and through his hair, his eyes growing sad again. "Goodnight, Matri. Wake me when we arrive."

He watched as the older man retreated to the other cabin, trying to decipher his words.

No, he decided, he would never understand Jedi.

* * *

Padmé's head pounded as she stared up at the durasteel ceiling, trying to decipher the events of the past few months. If she was to be honest, she hadn't taken the time to stop and think about any of it at length.

Obi-Wan's supposed death. Meeting the Master. Fighting her attraction to him. Becoming Ami. Satine hiding his true identity from her.

Pella Tro. Tre Gotri. Jedi. The attack on escaping.

Finding out the truth. Refusing to speak to Satine or Obi-Wan. Burying herself in work and teaching Acca.

Reconciling with Satine. Anakin being injured. Anakin going to Satine and Obi-Wan. Them agreeing to help him until his recovery.

Satine's attempts to make everything right. Palpatine trying to pit them against her. The mission. The backstory. The bombing.

The death.

Just when she was sure she had run the duct dry, the tears welled up again.

She was dead. Satine Kryze, Duchess of Mandalore, her best friend and mentor since she had been in her early years of being queen, was dead.

It wasn't possible. Padmé didn't want to believe it, still had hope that this was all a nightmare that she was going to wake up from anytime. She wanted to go back, back to her time at Varykino. If she had said yes then, would all of this had happened? Would it have truly been so bad for Anakin to leave the Jedi Order to be with her? He had done it regardless, so it wasn't as if she had gained so much from it.

If he had left the Jedi, and she the Senate, where would they have been? Perhaps they would be at Varykino now, sitting down to dinner with whatever children may have occured in that time? Would Satine be sitting beside her, and Obi-Wan on the other side of her? And if she woke up even earlier, would their daughter be there?

Her head pounded even harder, and she shook away the dreams. For that was all they were. Dreams that would never come true.

Well, perhaps her and Anakin dining at Varykino wasn't too far-fetched.

And that thought made her smile.

* * *

' **Ello! How are you all today?**

 **So, I took votes for the most disliked characters so I could know who to kill, and Satine was the overwhelming winner! Palpatine came in a close second, so I'm sorry that I didn't do his death proper justice. I just didn't feel like writing five more chapters for Anakin to heal and track down the evil sith lord, who in the mean time will harm hundreds more innocents. No, it was better this way.**

 **So, Vanished is near finished! One or two more chapters, and we'll be brings me to another topic,**

 **Vanished was and is the only (primarily) Anidala fanfic I will ever write (for now). My one true love is, and always has been, Obitine. That being said, all of the fanfic's I have in the works are focused on Obi-Wan and Satine, with Anidala being a very minor focus. Two major ones are ready to be next, and I want to know which you guys would prefer.**

 **Rise, Lord Kenobi:** " **Last night marked the beginning of a bleak day for the tiny planet of Stewjon. Not eight hours ago, Lady Adia Kiyo died of a long and painful illness, leaving the throne empty. Her brother, Tor, has been made intermediary ruler until the royal family can get in contact with the heir, who has been away from home for the past two and a half decades. Will he return home after all this time to reclaim his rightful position as Lord of Stewjon, and guide his system through the war?"** _ **(Obitine)**_

 **OR**

 **Defector's Prevention Act:** **Natassia Kiyo's life is a tangle of lies. Now, when her best friend links Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi to the Separatists through her, the Republic names him and Natassia Enemies of the Republic. Forced into hiding, their lives will never be the same.** _ **(Obitine, OC/OC)**_

 **So, thoughts? Also, who wants an epilogue?**

 **Shoutout to the new follows and favorites, though I do not know you all by name. Also, shoutout to all those who reviewed, I love you all.**


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three: Month

It had been a week.

Obi-Wan yawned, trying to rearrange himself on the hard plastic chair in a way that was comfortable. As far as his experiences with medwards went- and they were extensive- they all had one purpose in mind, and that was to be as uncomfortable as they possibly could.

The Halls of Healing was no different. If anything, they were worse, as Jedi were not generally to have visitors. Especially ones that had extended visitations.

Then again, this particular patient wasn't a Jedi.

He touched her hand, half afraid to find it cold once again. The past week had been hard on all of them as Satine had hovered in the void between life and death, something better and yet infinitely worse than the fate he had feared in the beginning.

It hadn't been until an hour into their flight home that she had shown any signs of life. To all appearances, she had seemed dead, and he had believed so. Gods, he would never forgive himself for giving up on her so easily. She was a Mandalorian, and she would fight to the end.

Matri had noticed it first. When he'd first asked if she had moaned, Obi-Wan had dismissed it. But when her hand had gripped his weakly, he'd nearly gone through the roof.

He'd employed every force healing technique he knew then, pouring all of his energy into keeping her alive. The eight hour journey had been agony to all three of them, and had drained him both physically and emotionally. Only when Master Che and the other healers had seen to her did he allow himself to rest and recover.

The next morning, he had woken to complete chaos.

The Chosen One had returned, bruised and beaten, accompanied by a near-dead Ahsoka and the body of Matri's brother. As the boy had told him, Palpatine had been discovered and killed, which in turn led to uproar in the senate. Padmé had only been by once, having been swamped with Senate duty. Ahsoka came by every day, as much to see Anakin as him and Satine.

He bounced back and forth between the two rooms, watching the progress of both invalids. Anakin had been in bacta for a day before being put in a recovery room. He was healing fairly rapidly, and though still weak, often sneaked out of bed to come see Satine.

"Still here, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan watched the healer check the monitors absently, wishing he had paid more attention to what they meant when they had been taught the basics of healing. Whatever the numbers and symbols meant, they must not have been bad, for she nodded in satisfaction. "Is she better?"

The Jedi had not, as of yet, made any comment about Obi-Wan's apparent attachment to the Duchess, but there was little surprise there. He had spent the majority of the past three years in the Senator's apartment, after some of them who had known him then- most specifically his creche mates and close friends- had made comments about intimate life, most had been content to leave him be.

"She's improved slightly. As long as she remains stable, she should come out all right. She's a strong woman with a thirst for life. I'll speak to Master Che tonight about reducing her medication amount. It will likely help induce her out of her coma." The togruta marked something down on her datapad before offering him a quick smile. "Why don't you go back to your room and get some rest? That chair can't be comfortable to sleep in, and Force knows you've been here long enough to need it. I can have someone come in and keep an eye on her while you're gone."

He exhaled softly, running a hand through his hair. "Thank you, but…"

Her smile was sympathetic as she raised her hand to stop him. "Fine, fine. I won't push you." She placed a hand on his shoulder, comfort radiating from her through the Force. "She's going to be okay, Obi-Wan."

"I know."

And in that moment, he did.

* * *

It had been two weeks.

At least, that was what everyone told her. Since she had been asleep for over half of it, it still felt like a few days.

It was good to be alive.

Satine relaxed back against the mattress with a deep sigh, relishing the ache in her legs and back. The walk from bed to fresher was a short one, barely a dozen steps, but it was a long way for a woman who had been thought dead only a fortnight before.

The thought sobered her. She had been sure she was going to die, and knew Obi-Wan had been as well. He had thought she had.

When she had woken three days before, he'd been by her side, ginger hair tousled, dark circles around his eyes, and a tired smile on his face.

He'd never looked more handsome.

According to the healers, he'd been by her side almost constantly, not willing to leave in case she woke. He'd slept in the only chair provided- a horrible piece made of rigid plastic- since he hadn't trusted the healers to alert him about any change in her condition. Gods, he had braved the ire of the Council, placed his very position in peril to be by her side.

How could she not be in love with such a man?

A shadow darkened the doorway- for there were no doors in a place such as this- and she looked up to see Anakin standing there, a sheepish smile on his face. "May I come in?"

"Of course. You know you're always welcome." Scooching over on the surprisingly wide hospital bed, she patted the mattress. "Come, sit."

He sat on the edge of the bed awkwardly, fiddling with his robe. "You're feeling better?"

"Much." She searched his face, trying to read what he was thinking. "Of course, if you'd come to see me yourself, you wouldn't have to ask. Where have you been?"

Anakin flushed, his gaze darting from his hand, to the wall, to the ceiling. Anywhere but her. "Eh, you know. Master Che has been keeping a close eye on me. Won't let me out of my room, that type of stuff. I just got released today."

Liar. "That didn't seem to stop you before." His blue eyes darted to her for a split second before going to the floor again, but she still saw the guilt in them. "Obi-Wan told me you came by before."

"I… ah…" he exhaled roughly. "Just a couple times. It was a bad idea, anyway." He shot to his feet, looking as if she had lit a fire under him. "I should probably go now. I wouldn't want to make you too tired. Obi-Wan would kill me and… yeah, I'll just go."

"Wait." She struggled to sit up, cursing when her back protested against the motion. "Don't go yet. Tell me how you've been doing. Have they fitted you for your arm yet? Are they going to cover the costs? I mean, since you aren't a Jedi. If they aren't, I'm still willing to buy one for you. They don't have to pay a penny, if that's a hangup. Are you still having phantom pains?"

The assault of questions seemed to catch him off guard, and his eyes widened as he looked up at her. "I… um… I don't know. About the payment and stuff. Master Che said that they took my measurements and everything, but she never said if they ordered anything. If they did, they haven't told me yet." He paused, glancing at the half empty sleeve. "It doesn't hurt much, anymore, but it's been itching like hell lately and there isn't a kriffing thing I can do about it."

She laughed at that, and his mouth tugged up just the slightest, a brief flash of mirth on the serious face.

It was a start.

* * *

It had been three weeks.

Ahsoka was dying. Her side called out for relief, the pain almost unbearable. She wasn't supposed to be like this, it told her. There was absolutely no need for her to be suffering like this.

"Breathe, padawan. In through the nose, out through the mouth." Obi-Wan's encouraging voice came from somewhere below, and she tried not to cry in frustration. Was it just her, or did he sound farther away now? He should be closer than ever, but instead it seemed as if he was halfway across the room.

Panic snaked through her, and her left hand slipped. For a split second, her body sway dangerously far away from the wall, her right hand redoubling its grip on the thin ledge. Scrabbling for a hold, her fingers gripped another precipice, only to find it to be loose dirt.

She was slipping, and he wasn't going to be there to catch her. Fear grabbed her, and she began grasping wildly at ledges with fingers and toes, looking for any way to hold on. Pebbles and roots skittered to the ground, only serving to increase her panic.

She hazarded a glance beneath her, only to see the ground impossibly far away. And where the hell was Obi-Wan?

"Ahsoka, calm down Breathe." His gentle reminder reduced her anxiety, and she slowly inhaled. "Good. Now, find your grip again. Take your time, you don't have to rush."

The screaming pain in her side said differently, but she obeyed, bracing herself with the Force. Two minutes later, she gasped in surprise when her bare foot brushed earth once again.

She'd made it.

"You did." The Jedi Master seemed to emanate soothing satisfaction, a gentle pride in her that made her chest swell. "I had no doubt in your abilities."

She tried her best not to flush, looking up the wall of mossy stone. "I didn't even know this was back here."

Obi-Wan smiled. "I found it shortly before I became a padawan, and would often climb to the top and study. It was one place where I had absolute solace away from my créchemates, and later fellow padawans." His hand came up to touch the wall pensively, seeming to lose himself in the memories for a few minutes.

"Too bad you can't do that anymore, huh? It's not a lot of fun being old"

He laughed, low and soft, as he took a step back. "Watch what you say, padawan. I could still beat you to the top."

Was that a challenge? "As if. I would pay to see you try to beat me, old man."

"I know what you're trying to do, Ahsoka." He slanted her a knowing look. "But you're in no condition to climb to the top."

The pain in her side verified his kindly spoken words, but she couldn't reign in her contemptuous sniff. "When I'm better, then. I challenge you, Master Kenobi, to a race to the top of the rock." She crossed her arms over her chest, cocking out a hip confidently. "But before you agree, I want you to climb it. See exactly what you're getting into." For the climb was grueling, and she had only gone halfway.

A flare flashed in his eyes. "Challenge accepted, young one."

For a brief second, he studied the wall of sheer rock, gray eyes calculating. Then, grasping one rock, then another, he began ascending at a far faster rate than she could have ever imagined.

Unlike her, he didn't pause or hesitate. Ahsoka watched in envy as he took each rock, each ledge with the solid assurance that it was going to hold him.

In less than a quarter of the time it had taken her to make it to the halfway point, she watched as he seated himself triumphantly on the ledge, a hundred feet above her. Scowling, she shouted up, "you have to come back down, too."

With the same confidence that he had scaled the rock with, he began his descent. And unlike her, he didn't inch along. He found holds one, two, three feet below him.

So perhaps she had underestimated him.

In half of the time it took him to get up, he was back beside her, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. "I take it back. I am not as young as I used to be." He stretched, wincing. "I need to get in shape."

He needed to get in shape? Ahsoka resisted the urge to scoff. There was no way she could ever hope to achieve the speed and agility he had scaled the wall with.

"You are injured, Ahsoka. You'll be amazed at how much that hinders you," he said gently, obviously sensing her thoughts. "As it is, you did very well for your first time, injury or not. Very few padawans would have been able to exert such influence over themselves."

"Thanks, Master," she replied sincerely. That was the good thing about Obi-Wan; he never offered praise unless he truly believed one deserved it. "I'm allowed to come here for practice, right? Since I am injured and all…"

He chuckled, tugging her lekku fondly. "What, afraid you're going to lose to an old man?"

"You're not that old, Master." She wished he was, though. Ahsoka didn't like to lose. "Anyway, if you're so sure you're going to beat me, why wouldn't you let me practice? What harm could it do, huh?"

"Practice as much as you want. Just remember that I've climbed this rock a hundred times."

She grinned cheekily. "Then I suppose I just have ninety-nine more times to go."

* * *

It had been four weeks.

"I saw Mas… Anakin today," Acca remarked casually, glancing at Padmé. The woman started, but quickly regained her composure.

She shuffled a pile of flimsi's absently before picking up her pen. "Oh, really?"

"Yes. He is good, is better. I hear he get his arm in few day." No response, just continued scribbling. "He ask about you."

The pen stuttered to a stop, then started again, slower this time. But the senator would not ask. Acca had learned that it was the way of people here. They never talked about anything that mattered to them, if they could help it. Instead, they buried all their feelings deep inside, causing lots of confusion and misunderstandings. They even made whole holovids exalting it. Yes, the people of the galaxy were strange beings indeed.

Love was not a complicated thing. She loved Padmé. She loved Master. She loved Ahsoka. She even loved Obi-Wan and Satine. Padmé always said it was easier for her to love because she didn't know what hate was, but she did. She knew that she hated Pella, and Palpatine, and Tre, and those men men who had tried to touch her. But when she had explained that to Padmé, she'd said there was a difference between friend love and love love, and she would understand when she was a little older.

Acca knew she just didn't agree but didn't want to hurt her feelings. Padmé always did that when she didn't want to make her feel bad, but Acca didn't mind.

"Did you see Satine while you were there?"

A deflection. It was one of her vocabulary words for the week. "No, but Anakin say he see her often. She much better, walk now. She leave the Halls soon I think. Anakin and Obi-Wan are looking for her a new apartment, but everyone say she too dangerous."

Padmé laughed at that, but a thoughtful look came into her eyes. "I wonder… now that my guest room is empty again, she could always move in again. Temporarily, of course. Just until she can get her own place."

Acca knew Satine and Obi-Wan once stayed in Padmé's apartment, but it still surprised her that she would suggest such a thing. "I think she might like that. Anakin say he and Obi-Wan look for place with enough room for all three of them, like before. Maybe Soka too, if Jedi let Anakin padawan her again."

"I thought she already had a master."

"He die."

"Oh."

The pen picked up speed once again, smoothly covering the flimsi in the strange markings of Aurebesh, as Padmé said their letters were called. Every here and there, Acca could pick out a word, but learning Basic and helping rule a planet was hard.

But not nearly as hard as Padmé's love life seemed to be.

* * *

It had been five weeks.

Matri clutched the benha ashes tightly as he whispered a soft valediction to the rough hewn stone engraved with the familiar letters scrawled across it, in the native text of their people.

Colier. Bringer of light.

The Jedi had given him a place on their wall of remembrance, a honor for the service he had performed for them. Matri had seen the recordings, seen his brother's actions in those last few minutes, knew that none of what had come to past would have been possible without him. He may have simply seen it as a service to the Master, but it had been more.

So much more.

Brushing his fingers over the wall once more, he rose and made his way back to the entrance. The Knight on duty smiled as he palmed the door shut. Matri knew he was likely the only one who ever went into the place, with all of the Jedi rules of attachment.

Anakin was waiting for him when he entered the hangar, performing some useless repair as usual. The silver of his mechanical arm gleamed like the ship, polished and new. It would never fulfill the same purpose as the flesh and bone, but…

"Stop feeling guilty. It wasn't your fault." Anakin pulled himself to his feet easily, tossing hydrospanner into its slot. "Come on. Let's go round up some criminals."

"Master Kenobi isn't coming?" The older man had been wary about letting Anakin go on any sort of mission so soon after getting his new arm, and had only relented when both he and Matri decided to go with him.

An impish smirk found it's way onto the Chosen One's face. "Not if we leave early." When Matri hesitated, the man had the indecency to flash his charming, boyish grin. "Oh, come on. Master won't care."

Matri had the feeling that Obi-Wan would care, very much, but climbed on board anyway. He would also understand how persuasive Jedi could be, and how Matri was in no place to contradict him.

Right?

Fifteen minutes later, as Matri prepared himself for the jump to hyperspace, he glanced over the input coordinates. "Where are we going?"

Anakin blinked, once, twice, three times, then swore long and loud. "I don't have the slightest idea."

* * *

It had been six weeks.

And boy was he glad to be out of that office.

Korkie Kryze steered his speeder through the skylanes as quickly as he could, glad that today had been his last day of work for the next few years, as long as his aunt didn't take another forced leave of absence. He'd been a good sport about the whole thing, he really had, but even he would readily admit that he was not yet ready to take on the responsibilities of ruling Mandalore.

But when he made his relief known as he sat across from her in the Senator Amidala's guest room, she frowned disapprovingly and shook her head. "I was ruling Mandalore when I was younger than you are, and that was during a war. You're simply filing paperwork. Do you know how many rulers would give anything to receive a world virtually untouched by this force-forsaken war?"

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, Aunt, and I'm grateful, truly. It's just… I thought ruling Mandalore would be more exciting. Filing paperwork and listening to Senators bicker is… I hate to say it, but it's kind of boring, if not very tedious."

She smiled, taking a sip of her tea. "You've done an excellent job while I've been away, Korkie, and I'm proud of you. It was a very tense situation that put you under a lot of pressure, and you handled it really well."

Korkie took a gulp of steaming tea, hoping to hide the blush that he was sure to have. "Mandalore takes care of it's own, you know that."

Her eyes misted, and she blinked rapidly. "Oh, you're growing up so fast. It seems like just a few days ago you were going off to school, and already you're a man." She leaned over to wrap him in a warm hug, squeezing him gently. "I was in a bad place when you came to me. I have no idea what I might have done without you."

"I love you too, Aunt Satine." He patted her back awkwardly, unsure of how to react to such a display of affection. Though she had raised him from infancy, his aunt had never been one to show him much affection, instead always watching him with a sad, almost regretful air. It hadn't been as if he hadn't known that she loved him, he had, but to go teary-eyed and hugging him was not in her character.

"Come, Satine, let the boy breath. You'll embarass him, suffocating him like that." The voice, thick with the sophisticated Coruscanti accent, served to pull his aunt away.

She offered the Jedi a teary smile, dabbing at her eyes carefully. "You're here early. Is Anakin with you?"

"He opted to go ahead. Didn't want to intrude on Padmé's personal space."

His aunt made a frustrated noise. "I did not nearly die for them to continue being idiots. These people need to forget about personal space for once and just talk. All of this hiding and tiptoeing is going to drive me insane otherwise."

"It's been less than a month, love. A very stressful and busy month at that. Give them a chance to do things on their own schedule." He sighed. "As it is, it may be better that he not pursue old feelings if he rejoins the order. The council has already asked me for my final answer on my status with them."

The duchess paled. "I see." Rising quickly, she brushed seemingly invisible dust off of her skirt. "Korkie, you will join us? Obi-Wan and Anakin have found an apartment for me."

He stood as well, pretending not to notice the way the Jedi looked at his aunt. He had seen, once, a holo in her room of a younger her and a man with dimples and braid behind one ear, and clothes that resembled the Jedi robes. He had been young, then, and had asked her about it, and she'd simply smiled sadly and looked off into the distance, murmuring something about lost loves and unspoken requests. It hadn't been long after that when his aunt had become engrossed in the blockade crisis on Naboo, and the two Jedi who'd gone there as a result. The younger one, a certain Obi-Wan Kenobi, had looked quite similar to the holo, but he never said anything.

And even now, he wouldn't say anything.

After all, the Duchess knew her own mind. She would be able to take care of herself.

* * *

It had been a month.

Padmé pulled her legs up on the couch, prepared to enjoy a quiet afternoon of rest and relaxation.

With Palpatine's death came discoveries that no member of the Republic had, or could have predicted. It had also caused limitless work for Padmé and the other Senators. For seven weeks, they had toiled to bring some sort of order to the galaxy, but it was a long and tedious process.

Thank the Force it was coming to an end.

Padmé had just become completely submerged in her book when the lift doors slid open and Satine stormed through the room, closely followed by a horrifyingly familiar man.

"Satine, please…"

"The answer is no, Anakin. You won't change my mind on this."

"But he loves you!"

"And that is why I can not ask this of him." They had disappeared into Satine's room, but Padmé could still hear the tears in her voice. "Just go, Anakin, please."

"Fine!" Padmé heard the door open and close, and a few seconds later Anakin stomped out of the hall, hands clenched into fists as he grumbled under his breath. His skin was flushed an angry red, but the instant his eyes landed on her, he froze, going as white as a sheet. "Padm- Senator. I… I didn't know you were home."

She forced a bright smile, holding her book up to emphasize a point she had yet to think of. "Yes, well, everyone was tired and frustrated, so I called a recess. They have all worked tirelessly this past month, and I wanted to give them a reward." Had she just repeated herself? Her mind was a complete mess, a tangled web of scattered thoughts. Not a good thing, when he was standing there in front of her. "How is the move going?"

He had not expected her to speak to him, that much was obvious by the look of panic that flashed across his face. "It's… not going, for now. Satine and Obi-Wan won't talk, and when they do, it's just a bunch of bickering and insults. So, it's kind of at a standstill until they can reconcile."

"What's wrong? They both seemed so happy just a few days ago."

"The Jedi council wants to know where his loyalties lie, but he won't stay unless she asks him, and she won't ask him." He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "And the worst part is that they won't even talk about it. He just insinuates, she explodes, and they argue. It's unbearable."

Padmé smiled, setting her datapad on the table. "That's Obi-Wan and Satine for you. Imagine living with them." She rose, making her way towards the kitchen. "Can I get you something to drink?"

He hesitated, slowly following her. "Just water."

She poured him a glass, wondering what to say next. "Satine told me the Council offered to accept you back."

"They did."

"And have you accepted?"

He drained the tumbler, setting it back on the counter. "No."

"Why not?"

"I don't belong there anymore. I don't know that I ever did."

She thought of him, dressed in Jedi robes with a padawan cut. "You seemed like a pretty good Jedi to me."

He shrugged, playing with the sleeve of his robe. "They were right when they said I was too old. It was too much of a change, and I did everything in my power to make it worse. If it hadn't been for Obi-Wan, I don't think I would have lasted as long as I did."

"He never said much about you being a difficult student," Padmé replied softly. "But then, he didn't talk about you, at least not to me. I never wanted him to, after Anakin… after you died."

Anakin exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry, Padmé. For leaving, for dying, for Ehren, the Master, Obi-Wan, now… all of it."

Something in her chest clenched painfully. "Anakin, I… I can't. I just… I'm not ready." For a minute, she thought she had been, thought she could let go of the past and forgive him. But his words had ignited a pain, a hurt she hadn't even known existed. "I can't forgive you. I'm sorry."

Shattered.

It was the only word to describe the look in his eyes.

At one time in her life, she wouldn't have been surprised if he burst into a passionate diatribe, or demanded an explanation. Honestly, she wouldn't have been surprised if he did so.

But he didn't.

His face paled, and he swallowed, but that was the only visible reaction that she could find. His eyes cleared, his shoulders relaxed, and his head inclined in the slightest nod. The tiniest of smiles crossed his mouth, just bittersweet enough to let her know that he was hurt by her decision, but not blaming her. "I understand."

A lump formed in her throat, and Padmé found herself blinking back tears. "You do?"

His hands, one gloved and the other bare, cradled her face gently, and she gasped softly when his lips brushed over hers in a soft kiss. "Take care of yourself, Padmé."

She didn't remember closing her eyes, but she must have, for when she opened them again, he was gone.

* * *

 **I'm alive! Did you miss me?**

 **I am so sorry that this chapter was so late, and I could probably give a hundred excuses, but I won't. The last few chapters have been absolute monsters to write, and this has been the worst of them all. I've said this before, but I have to repeat it: my reviewers are so important to me! I have had hardly** _ **any**_ **feedback on the last few chapters, and it's really taken a toll on both my inspiration and drive. So, if you have the chance, PLEASE REVIEW! Let me know that you're out there, and don't let my poor plot bunny starve to death.**

 **Thank you, Lord Loptr, Col. Hammer, julianvbek1, Axel Starr, Sweetc13, MittensRocks, dickclarkfan1, solydous, Jana-Blueberry, Skywalker666, favmom, and LukaSkyDancer for your follows and favorites! You guys have been some of the only things that have kept me writing these past couple months.**

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 **Xxxplacexxx (Guest): I'm glad you understand!**

 **: Thank you so much, and you're welcome!**

 **Thank you, Vanished family, for sticking with me for so long! It's been a long journey, but we're almost there.**

 **Also, has anyone else seen The Last Jedi yet? What are your thoughts on it?**

 **Trivia: This chapter contained seven of the eight point of views that Vanished is told from. The only one who is missing is Colier, because of his death. Because there were seven characters, I decided to place each of them at one week intervals over a (Star Wars) month.**


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four: Invitation

"To Varykino?" The surprise was clear in Obi-Wan's voice as he set down his mug.

Padmé raised her eyebrows innocently. "Why not? It is my home. Where else should I go for my vacation?"

He and Satine exchanged glances, and the woman raised an eyebrow. "You've refused to even step foot in the lake country in over three years. Why the sudden change?"

"As you just said, it's been over three years. I can't let the past keep me from enjoying my life." Padmé took a sip of her tea, revelling in the taste. "Satine, where did you find this? I've never had anything quite like it."

Her friend unsuccessfully tried to hide her smirk. "You'll have to ask Anakin. He's the one who found it."

The name made Padmé choke and she sputtered, hacking as the liquid went down her windpipe. "I never took him for a tea person."

Obi-Wan chuckled, rising and taking both his and Satine's empty mugs. "He says he gets it for me, but he and Matri drink nearly as much as I do."

"Where is Matri, by the way? I expected to see him." She looked around the roomy living area and den, avoiding their gazes. She had little doubt that they both knew her reasoning. Wherever Matri was, Anakin was sure to not be far away.

She could always ask straight out, but that seemed wrong, especially after the way she had treated him the last time she had seen him. Even now, five months later, she could still remember the way he had kissed her, as if he was saying goodbye, never to see her again.

And perhaps he had been, but it had been long enough. Padmé was tired of letting the past rule her, and wanted to put it all behind her.

It was time to let the past die.

Not to mention that she was _lonely_.

There were many rewards to being the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, but it was a lonely position to hold. She had reached the top, the pinnacle of her career. There was no higher position she could hold. She was loved by many, respected by most, and known by all.

But the top was a lonely place to be, especially when the only man she wanted had avoided her for half a year.

"I don't have the slightest idea. He and Anakin said they would be home by lunch, but that was three hours ago." Satine sighed, tucking her feet under her. "Boys will be boys, you know."

As if on cue, the lift chimed, and two very masculine voices were heard from the hall. Matri was the first to appear, shirtless and glistening as he swaggered through the door. Anakin wasn't far behind, also in a similar state of undress, and also sweaty.

Padmé nearly expired on the spot.

"Mom, we're hom-" Matri's call faded when he saw them, his dark eyes widening. "Oh, Pad- er, Chancellor."

"Your Excellency," Anakin added, cocky smirk telling her he knew exactly how he affected her. "I didn't expect to find you here."

She was sure she was going to have a heart attack from the sight of so much tanned skin and rippling muscles. Gods, where was a fan when she needed one?

"Where have you boys been?" Satine asked suspiciously when Anakin came to kiss her. "You were supposed to be back hours ago."

Anakin shrugged. "We got the new hyperdrive in, and thought we would take her out for a spin." He grinned sheepishly. "You could say we lost track of time."

Obi-Wan re-entered the room, carrying a small tray of sandwiches. "I suppose we could say that, couldn't we? Where did you go?"

"Alderaan. Didn't stay long though." Matri scoffed, sitting on the floor. "Anakin had something really _important_ to do. If you could call getting ready for a night of drunken pleasure and debauchery important."

Satine frowned, her eyes going to the man lounging on the sofa beside her. "Anakin…"

"It's just a couple drinks with the guys, mom." He stood. "Don't worry. I'll be back by midnight."

"That's not what worries me."

He grinned, carefree and boyish as he dropped another kiss on her head. "I have to go shower. Don't wait up for me."

For a few minutes after Anakin disappeared into his room, there was silence. Something in Satine's worried gaze told Padmé all was not well, and she couldn't think of anything to say. Eventually, Matri mumbled something about freshening up for dinner and disappeared, leaving the three of them alone.

Obi-Wan sighed, sitting. "As you said, love, boys will be boys. Now, Padmé, tell us more about this trip to Varykino."

"You're all invited, of course. Acca's coming as well, and I wanted to ask Ahsoka, if she's able to come." She smiled. "It was something of a last minute decision, so I'll be going in a week. I hope you don't have something already planned."

Satine shook her head. "No, we'd love to join you. I'm sure Korkie will watch things on Mandalore for a while, and it'll be nice to go somewhere now, before…" she paused, smiling a bit. "Anyway, of course we'll come. Just tell us the day and we'll be ready."

* * *

02.46

The time glared at her unblinkingly from the bedside chrono. Beside her, completely undisturbed by the muttered curses and clatterings that was most certainly Anakin, Obi-Wan slept on, arm wrapped loosely around her waist.

Carefully extracting herself from his grip, Satine pulled on her discarded robe before going into the living quarters.

Anakin sat at the breakfast bar, head in his hands and bottle of brandy at his elbow. He must have sensed her presence, for he looked up, eyes glassy and unfocused. "I told you not to wait up."

"I didn't." Pulling out the chair beside him, she sank into it with a deep sigh. "You also said you would be home by midnight."

He laughed, but the sound was mirthless and hollow. "Five months, Satine. I thought I had gotten over her, that I was ready to move on." His eyes shut, a blissfully haunted smile curling up the corners of his mouth. "I knew she was here, knew that I would have to see her, but I thought… kriff it."

"You love her."

"You think?" Clumsily, he ran his hand through his hair. "I wanted to get drunk tonight, to drink until I couldn't remember. Not her name, her face, her skin, her lips…" he gasped softly, opening his eyes again. They were bloodshot, the naturally pure blue irises just a thin rim around his dilated pupils. "She haunts me, Satine. All I want, all I ask for is to forget her, but there isn't a moment when she isn't in my mind. When I'm working, when I relax, when I sleep. Everywhere I go, anything I do, she's there. And it… it hurts. Loving her, wanting her… I can't. I just can't do it anymore."

Her heart was breaking for the boy, but she wasn't sure what she could do about it. He was hurting, heartbroken, and she had no comfort to offer. "She said that she needed time."

Even in his drunken state, she could tell that he was incredulous. "I've given her five kriffing months, Satine! How much time does she need? How long did it take you and Obi-Wan to reconcile?"

How many times did she have to tell him that every couple was different? "You faked your death, Anakin."

"And you never even told him she was alive." The retort met her like a slap in the face, and she flinched. He must have recognized the hurt on her face, and his shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

"It took him five minutes to forgive me," Satine replied quietly. "Obi-Wan is like that. But it took me thirteen years to forgive myself. Even now, I have my days of doubt, but I don't have to carry them alone now. And you shouldn't either."

The completely blank look in his eyes made her wonder if he had even heard her. "There was a girl, at the club. Short, brunette, curvy. If you were at a distance, she looked like she could almost be Padmé. I thought that if I drank enough, I could forget that Padmé's eyes weren't hazel, her voice wasn't fake, her nose wasn't freckled…" Dewy tears clung to the blonde lashes, and he blinked rapidly as his voice broke. "... that she wasn't Padmé. One night to pretend, to take away all the pain. That's all I wanted, but I couldn't… I couldn't do it."

She wrapped her arms around him then, and he let her, leaning into her embrace.

Then, he cried.

* * *

Obi-Wan woke with a start, suddenly aware that the space beside him was empty. Panic, worry, and relief went through his mind in thundering succession, closely followed by curiosity.

He followed her Force presence to the kitchen, where he found her fast asleep. She was sitting on the floor, back propped up against the island, and Anakin was draped across her lap, damp cheek pillowed on her arm. Though the mostly empty bottle of brandy and tear stained cheeks said differently, both looked so at peace it was hard for him to wake them.

But Satine was his, and her rightful place was beside him in bed, not cuddling his half drunk apprentice on the cold kitchen floor.

As gently as he could, he hoisted Anakin up, smiling when the boy didn't even stir. Satine, however, did stir, her eyes squinting up at him through the darkness. "Obi? What are you doing up at this hour?"

He shifted Anakin's limp body until most of it rested over his shoulder. "I could be asking you the same thing."

She yawned, stretching luxuriously like a feline. "I was trying to talk to your son about love and women and sex, and somehow it turned into a storytime, tear fest, and drunk sleepover all at once." Another yawn as she stood, leaning against the counter sleepily. "What time is it?"

"Half past three. And he's your son when he has more than one glass of liquor in him." He wrinkled his nose when a whiff of Anakin's breath met his face. "Bloody hell, how drunk was he?"

"Drunk enough. Seeing Padmé today was something of a shock to him." Capping off the bottle of brandy, she put it in the cabinet. "I'm going back to bed."

Obi-Wan began the slow walk to Anakin's room. "Go on ahead, love. I'm going to put him to bed first."

She smiled, pausing to kiss him. "Look at you, being a good daddy."

"Might as well practice now."

She hummed softly, nuzzling his cheek. "When are you going to let me tell everyone? At the very least, Anakin and Matri deserve to know."

"And so does Padmé, and my mother, and Korkie, and the whole of Mandalore, and the galaxy."

"Not the galaxy. And certainly not Mandalore." She wrapped her arms around her waist. "But there can be no reason to keep it from our friends, can there? They will find out, eventually."

"Is it enough to say that I like having a secret, in a house where such privileges are few and far between?" Anakin mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep, and Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. "Are you going to wake up and save me from lugging you the rest of the way to your room?"

Something that sounded suspiciously like 'Padmé' followed a soft moan and Anakin rolled. Obi-Wan didn't even try to stop him, and he hit the floor with a dull thump. A gasp and a groan, and the boy's blue eyes flew open, dark and unfocused. He blinked owlishly up at them for a few minutes, then grinned. "I love her."

Satine threw up her hands. "I give up. Deal with him, Obi-Wan."

Anakin shook his head, trying to stand with little success. "No, I have to… have to… I have to go see her. She's waiting for me."

"You're not going anywhere until you're somewhere near sober." Obi-Wan pulled him to his feet, frowning when the man swayed unsteadily. "Besides, I doubt Padmé is up at this time of night. And she's certainly not waiting for you."

* * *

Padmé woke with a gasp, covered in sweat and nightgown bunched up around her waist.

Alone.

It had only been a dream.

But kriffing hell, it had seemed real. She could have sworn it had been his hands on her body, his lips on her skin, his voice whispering things in her ear that made her flush just to think about it. But the things he had said didn't come near to what he had _done_.

Kriff it all.

Untangling the sheets from around her legs, Padmé glanced at the mirror. Flushed cheeks, tangled hair, thin silk nightgown. She looked like the cover of a romance novel, waiting for her scandalous, sexy Jedi lover to come home.

 _Damn you, Anakin Skywalker._

She needed a shower. A cold one.

Half an hour later, she sat down on her balcony with a glass of whisky. It had been Obi-Wan's favorite, and the only one she would ever drink. It tasted warm, a mix of toffee and caramel, the taste of sadness and regret. She looked down into the amber liquid, suddenly wishing that he was here, beside her, to sympathise in lost loves as he always had done before.

How had he lived in the same house as her for three years and never brought up the past, never showed any sign of the anguish he must have felt? Just knowing Anakin was on the same planet as her was disrupting everything. Had he ever been woken in the middle of the night, thinking of her, knowing that she was so near and not being able to do anything about the gnawing ache inside of him?

Of course he hadn't. He was Obi-Wan Kenobi, formerly thought to be the greatest Jedi Master the order and the galaxy had ever seen.

Or maybe he had, and that was why they would sit on the balcony and drink whisky. Trying to forget his sorrows, his regret. Trying to pretend he wasn't in love.

Gods, she was so in love with him.

Why hadn't she forgiven him then? What had held her back? Stubborness? Anger? Pride? Some misplaced sense of justice?

Two weeks. She'd managed to carve two weeks out of her calendar to spend at Varykino, where it had all begun.

Two weeks to erase the past and draw the future.

Two weeks to make him fall in love with her again.

That is, if he even agreed to go in the first place.

 _Please agree to go, so I don't spend the next three years sipping regret on my balcony at three in the morning._

* * *

 **Well, that was sooner than I expected.**

 **So, much against my will, my plot bunny chewed up my plan to not write a real ending to this and left it in the dust. Hopefully Anakin and Padmé will finally reconcile their differences and let me finish this in a reasonable time, but I can't give any promises.**

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 **: You're welcome, and I'm glad you did! Hopefully you'll never have to wait so long again!**

 **Jxjxjx: Thank you so much! I will always aspire to write long chapters, but I don't think it's my destiny. ;)**

 **stingerfan: My friend! As you may see, Padmé is sorely regretting her callous words. Hopefully I can convince Anakin to see reason and finally get them to let the past stay just that; the past.**

 **Acesnowlightning: Thank you!**

 **Ember Skywalker: Aw, thank you! I've had fun writing it, and it will always be very dear from me, as the only story carried over from my original set.**

 **Trivia: Matri and Anakin calling Satine 'mom' actually came from a collab I had done with my sister, where Anakin and Ferus referred to Obi-Wan and Siri as their Jedi parents.**

 _ **For all my Obi-Wan fans (who've wondered how any mother could give up such a glorious child), I've written a oneshot called 'A Mother's Choice' that sort of gives you a bit of background on what I think his birth would have been like.**_

 _ **Also, I've started another full length fic for my Obitine fam. (I think I included a summary a couple chapters ago?) Mainly a sequel to A Mother's Choice, it will dive a bit more into Obi, the man, the truth, the legend, though not exactly in that order. You can find it, and a full summary, on my profile as 'Rise, Lord Kenobi'.**_

 _ **To all of you who have read, favorited, reviewed, and/or followed either of these stories, thank you so much!**_


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five: Varykino

What if he didn't come?

"Your turn, Padmé."

Padmé roused herself from her thoughts to gaze blankly at the chessboard. "You went?"

Acca nodded, ever patient. "Yes."

She frowned when she noticed how disproportionate her pieces were to the girl's. She needed to get her head in the game. Studying the board carefully, she moved a piece.

The Ehren girl grinned, moving her piece triumphantly. "Checkmate."

Unbelievable. She, a self-proclaimed chess master, had lost to an amateur who'd only learned the game a week before.

"When will they be here?" Acca cleared the antique chess pieces and put them back in the padded wooden box that was designated for the pieces. "Ahsoka said this morning."

Padmé looked at the setting sun visible on the balcony. The same balcony where… "Satine told me they were late getting out, but they should be here soon. Ahsoka is with them, then?"

"Yes. I talk to her last night." She didn't miss the small smirk the girl gave her, obviously knowing what she was asking. "She say she much look forward to her visit, never been to Naboo before either."

She forced herself not to sigh, turning to look out over the lake. The evening sun reflected off of the glassy water, not a ripple marring the calm surface. Except… she squinted at the horizon. Yes, there was something there, growing larger by the minute.

A boat, seemingly ladened down by both passengers and baggage.

"They're here!" Acca exclaimed, scrambling to her feet. "Ami, they have come!"

She could pretend that she was only mildly interested and watch impassively from her seat. But honestly, what was the use now? Acca obviously knew everything there was to know, as did everyone else. At this point, even denying it to herself was pointless.

She liked a man. So what? They were both independent adults, able to make their own decisions. If other people noticed, it didn't matter.

But there was no reason for her to act uncivilized, was there?

Rising from her chair, she stepped out onto the balcony, watching the approaching craft with barely concealed anticipation. Acca had already run down to the end of the dock, and she smiled when she waved frantically. Even though she could now make out the vague silhouettes of the occupants of the boat, she still couldn't tell if Anakin was one of them.

 _Please, let him have come_.

By the time the boat arrived at the dock, she had joined Acca to welcome her guests. And, oh, joy of joys, he was there. Looking too large to be stuffed in the backseat, messy blond hair damp from the spray of the water.

And he was looking at her.

He smiled, and an army of butterflies seemed to alight in her stomach. Flushing hotly, she dragged her gaze from his and turned to Satine, who was being helped out of the craft by Obi-Wan. Her face was a sickly green, and she was holding onto his arms for dear life.

"Padmé, of all places you could live, you would choose a lake house," the Duchess moaned, sagging onto the pavers weekly. "And one in a no-fly zone as well. Who in their right minds prefers a _boat_ to a starship?"

Obi-Wan chuckled softly, lifting her up gently. "Wouldn't your ancestors be ashamed? A Mandalorian, so seasick as to heave any food consumed in the last week on a ten minute boat ride."

She scowled up at him. "There's a reason why most Mandalorians don't live on watery planets. And if they do, a jetpack or starship answers to the purpose of transportation very well."

"And that, my friends, is why she lives on a desert planet," Padmé joined in on the friendly banter easily.

Anakin scoffed. "Next time you go on vacation, visit Tatooine, and I'm sure you'll change your mind very quickly." Both Ahsoka and Matri groaned, and he grinned. "See, even they agree with me."

"Tatooine is _hot_ ," Ahsoka retorted. "At least Mandalore doesn't scorch the skin right off your face. Acca, I was so sunburned after a day in Mos Espa that I started to peel, like a lizard or a banana."

The Ehren girl shook her head sympathetically, smiling. "That sounds not good. It hurt much?"

"She cried all night long, didn't she, Anakin?" Matri bowed deeply. "Your excellency. Thank you for having us."

Padmé smiled even as she saw Anakin scowl and mouth 'suck up'. "Matri, it's good to see you again. And please, it's just Padmé. I'm only Chancellor when I'm on Coruscant."

"I'm sorry, Padmé, I forgot to tell him that you don't like titles," Anakin cut in smoothly, earning an eye roll from Ahsoka. "After all, I'm sure you'd rather leave work behind when on a pleasure trip."

Something about the way he said pleasure made Padmé think he wasn't speaking purely of a relaxing vacation. Her face warmed. "Actually, you're right. Being Chancellor Amidala is a tiring life that I'm glad to leave behind for a couple weeks. I'm sure Satine can agree that it's the same with just being a Duchess."

Satine waved airily. "Don't look at me. Just like the Chancellor Amidala, the Duchess doesn't exist here either. What self-respecting Duchess have you ever seen hurl her insides into the great deep? Speaking of which, are we just going to stand out here? I don't know about anyone else, but I haven't eaten since early this morning."

Tearing her gaze from his, she smiled at the rest of her guests. "Of course, come in. Dinner is ready and waiting."

"I'm sorry we kept you waiting so long," Obi-Wan apologized. "We had some... unforeseen mechanical difficulties that delayed our departure."

Padmé offered her best gracious hostess smile. "As long as you made it here safe, the rest is inconsequential. But please, come in. I'm sure you must all be tired and hungry. Paddy will take care that your luggage will be taken to your rooms, and my handmaidens have already seen to it that they were aired and arranged, so you may retire whenever you wish. There is a fresher and powder room on each floor and in each of the guest rooms, if you need them. My staff will be sure to see to any and all of your needs for the duration of your stay, so don't be afraid to ask them for anything." She paused to take a breath. "Does anyone have any questions?"

As one, her guests shook their heads.

"Well then, welcome to Varykino."

* * *

Obi-Wan had never seen a more ridiculous pair.

Padmé and Anakin sat side by side on the loveseat, both smiling and talking, completely immersed in their surroundings and yet completely separated from one another. Every once in a while, they'd lock gazes, or accidentally touch. Then they'd smile awkwardly before turning back to their respective conversations, somehow managing to make their situation ten times more uncomfortable than it had reason to be.

Though Matri and Ahsoka seemed completely oblivious to the uncomfortable tension between the couple, Satine and Acca seemed close to despair. After all, they had been the ones who had forced them to sit together, first at dinner and now here, in the lounge. Obi-Wan had watched the situation with amusement, wondering how long the charade would play out.

Two weeks had been the time they said would be spent on Naboo, only ten days. And one of them was already half gone.

The sun had set over an hour ago, and the twin moons had risen in its place, visible through the open doorway. Even though the time was drawing late, no one had made a move to take their leave, content to spend the evening in the company of friends.

Satine leaned against him comfortably, carrying on a conversation with Padmé and Acca about some new bill passing through the senate, but he could sense her attention wandering. Even though Mandalore had once again been established within the Republic after the war, she hadn't taken an active stance in the political field, instead focusing on strengthening the moral resolve within the system and eradicating Death Watch. Without the Separatists to back their efforts, the attacks had slowly dwindled and the leaders were arrested.

He'd been surprised at how quickly the galaxy had rebuilt. In a matter of weeks, the Separatist alliance had crumbled without the leadership of Sidious. Dooku had tried his best to hold them together, but had eventually been arrested and brought to trial. He'd been sentenced to life in prison, but had been killed during a failed attempt to escape.

The Jedi had once again been dispersed across the galaxy as the weakened Republic attempted to return to stability. This time, though, they'd been alone. The clone army had been recalled in massive waves after it had been confirmed that Dooku had been the one to commission them. A brief investigation of the Kaminoan facilities had found records about a list of orders that the clones had been programmed to follow without question—specifically, Order 66, which was meant to kill every Jedi.

There had been some argument in the Senate to return the Clones to active duty after the microchips had been removed, but the Jedi Council ruled that they would no longer be party to the Republic's whims. Even Jedi ho had relied almost completely on their men had been shaken by the thought of serving alongside people programmed to kill them, and had stood staunchly against returning to their General status. Obi-Wan had been among them, though he still missed the 212th. Cody, Boil, Waxer and the others had been his friends and he'd trusted them with his life. But until they were thoroughly evaluated and they were sure Palpatine hadn't had other plans for them, he'd agreed on the decision to put them out of commission.

Perhaps one day he would see them again. No longer as Jedi and clone, or General and troops, but civilian to civilian. He'd been out of the loop for some time, but there had been rumors of a community dwelling being built for them.

But no matter what was in store for them, his days of being a General were over. It had been one of the few areas of his life as a Jedi that he hadn't been reluctant to let go of. The council had hardly been surprised when he'd turned in his lightsaber, though many of his friends had asked him to stay. Perhaps in another universe he would have stayed, serving among his peers in the same selfless life he had once lived, but somewhere along the way that had no longer appealed to him. Anakin's disappearance had opened his eyes to a whole new world, one where he was not required to be the perfect Jedi Knight that he'd always aspired to, but one where he was just a man, a husband, a father.

She hadn't asked. They'd both danced around the question for months, unwilling to make the other give up something they loved. The rebuild had given them an excuse, allowing them to pretend there was something more important for them to be doing than coming up with a solution. Every day, they would go their separate ways, acting as if nothing was amiss, only to find themselves back together that night. They'd both been used to living in a place of limbo, always understood but never openly stated, to each other or anyone else.

But a choice must be made sometime, and they'd come to that point. She'd been unwilling to, so he had.

It surprised him, afterwards, that it took him so long. He'd been waiting for her, but why? Pride was the immediate answer, the pride that wouldn't allow him to admit that he needed her.

A small smile crossed his face as he watched the couple on the loveseat, both unknowingly following the same pattern. Both dancing around the question, unwilling to face the choice.

All because of pride.

* * *

 **Yes it's short, and yes it's late, but I typed half of this while I was supposed to be studying for midterms and finals. Hopefully this will hold you guys over until the next (and probably final) chapter.**

 **Thanks to Epic Zealot Productions 2.0, readership, Someone 86, Cinderrosemc, MNoteboom, Punked127, Ember Skywalker, RaeFer, Vampiress23, and DarthVass33 for all the follows and favorites, I'm honestly surprised at how many of you are still coming every update.**

 **: Thanks!**

 **a tired reader (Guest): Wow, that's one of the largest compliments I've had as a writer! Thank you so much, that really made my day. I hope I don't disappoint.**

 **Trivia: Though I didn't specifically state it, Collier and Matri were not from Ehren, but a nearby planet where Anakin bought their freedom.**


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six: Finale

Padmé rolled over in bed, contemplating the events of the day. They'd been at Varykino for a week already, and she'd yet to make any apparent progress on her relationship with Anakin. They were able to talk now, but all of their subjects had been shallow and safe, small talk that might as well have been between strangers. There seemed to be a boundary between them, keeping them from saying what they were truly thinking about.

It exhausted her.

How had Obi-Wan and Satine managed? They'd lived together for three years, and as far as she knew, they'd never gone any farther than polite friendliness. She hadn't even suspected that there had ever been anything more between them, and she'd been with them most.

But would she want to do that? Pursuing a platonic relationship with Anakin didn't appeal to her, but neither did the thought of being alone.

Something moved outside, catching her attention. Pushing aside her blankets, Padmé reached for her robe as she got out of bed. She doubted that it was an intruder, but curiosity still prompted her to investigate.

Peeking out of her curtained doorway, she immediately recognized Anakin's silhouette in the dim light. Briefly, she thought about saying something to him, but she quickly talked herself out of it. After all, what would she say to him that didn't just sound stupid?

He shifted and she drew back, afraid that he'd seen her. She was just about to go back to her bed when he spoke.

"Don't go."

She froze, half wondering if he was talking to her. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Your presence is soothing."

Pleasure, warm and comforting, filled her. "I didn't… I wasn't sure if you would come. After what I said…"

"Don't, Padmé." He sighed, but she couldn't detect any anger in his voice. "Don't ever apologize for telling the truth. You were right for what you did. I didn't deserve your forgiveness after everything I did. I think I knew that then, even if it hurt."

He had known. She still remembered the smile he'd given her, the understanding in his eyes before he'd kissed her. Before he'd left.

 _Take care of yourself_.

What could she say? Somehow, it seemed that everything had been spoken, and yet, the silence seemed to be filled with unsaid words.

"I forgive you."

She saw his back tense, the fisting of his hands. "I wasn't asking…"

"You didn't have to." Knowing he was prepared to object, she continued, "You don't know how angry I've been at myself for all these months. Angry that I let my pride stand in the way of what I knew was right. I've spent every day regretting the words I said, wanting to fix everything but too stubborn and arrogant to actually do anything about the mess I made. And even when I finally decided to do something about it, I couldn't even bring myself to ask you to your face."

He had turned to face her by now, his expression seeming intentionally blank. "But I came."

"That's beside the point."

"Which is?"

Padmé sighed. "I didn't ask you. I literally invited everyone except for you just to get you here."

Something lit in his eyes, and his lips slowly curved up in a smirk. It, coupled with the darkness from the moonless night, was reminiscent of their time on Ehren, when he was the Master. "Really?"

She swallowed, feeling unnerved by the look he was giving. Knowing. Hungry, even. "Yes."

"So you're telling me…" he was moving towards her now, and the hairs on her arms stood on end. "All these people are here because you were afraid to ask me to come?"

Squirming under his gaze, she tried to look anywhere but at him. "I wasn't sure if you would if I asked. After…"

"That was months ago, Padmé. It's all in the past. Let it die." He was only a few inches away from her, and she froze when he tucked a rogue curl behind her ear. "Hey. Look at me."

Padmé blinked back an unexpectant tear as she complied. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, angel." He dropped a soft kiss on her forehead. "Force, you don't know how much I've missed you."

She knew that they hadn't talked about half of the things they needed to, but they would have plenty of time to do that later. For now, though, this would be enough. "Kiss me, Anakin."

"Padmé…" his voice was slightly breathier than it had been before, but he didn't try to resist as she pulled him down for a long, slow kiss.

Finally, after almost a year, she was home.

* * *

Satine looked up from her holonovel when Obi-Wan kissed her cheek. "What was that for?"

"Nothing important. Can't a man kiss his wife whenever he feels like it?"

She narrowed her eyes. Call her suspicious, but she never trusted her husband when he had a grin large enough to split his face in half. "Yes, he can, but you aren't just kissing me because you want to. You know something."

His eyebrows raised innocently, but the grin only grew broader. "What makes you think I know something?"

"You're positively gloating, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You never gloat unless you know something."

"Fine, then. I do know something." He tried, unsuccessfully, to stop smiling, instead assuming a comical attempt at being serious. "But as it's something that is a private matter, I will not tell you."

Satine glared at him. "That's hardly fair, Obi. You come in here, positively bursting to tell me about some juicy secret you've uncovered, and you won't even tell me what it is. Badly done, Obi-Wan, very badly done." Turning back to her book, she mentally began counting down.

 _Three._

 _Two._

 _One._

A soft whimper left his throat as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "You're not even curious of what it is, love?"

She raised an eyebrow, turning the page of her book patiently. "Of course not. Since it is, as you said, a private matter, it is none of my concern. Even though I would have liked to know what it was, I'll not concern myself with something that I shall not know."

He was silent for only a half second. "You know I would tell you if I wasn't sworn to secrecy."

She hummed in agreement, pretending to continue reading.

"Though I suppose I wasn't told that I couldn't tell you, exactly."

It was amazing how one could rationalize in favor so quickly about something they had been so set against before. "But if the party who made you privy to this knowledge said not to tell anyone, then I wouldn't want you to break your word."

"Well, I didn't swear exactly…" he grumbled. "But it was understood, you see."

"Precisely. An understanding, though it may be silent, is surely as good as a spoken or written agreement."

Obi-Wan seemed to mull on that for a moment before he spoke again. "But you are my wife. They couldn't have expected me to lie to you, could they?"

"You didn't lie, love. You told me that you knew something, and you couldn't tell me what it was. Where's the lie in that?"

He grumbled under his breath, pulling her closer. "But spouses should never keep anything from each other. You don't keep secrets from me, so it's hardly fair if I kept a secret from you. After all, it's not as if you'd tell anyone."

"Whatever you say, Obi."

"Anyway, it's likely that everything will come out in the morning as it is. You can hardly tell anyone in that time."

"Mm-hmm." She yawned dramatically before turning off the lamp. "Can you tell me in the morning? Your daughter has drained me of all my energy."

"You're going to sleep now?" He sounded positively devastated. "I was going to tell you about…"

"Tomorrow, love. Tell me tomorrow. Now sleep."

He sat stock still for a full minute as Satine snuggled her pillow. Then, slowly, he seemed to deflate beside her. "Are you sure you don't want to…"

Satine sighed, rolling over to face him. "Fine. Tell me what is so important that I must hear it tonight."

 _Bingo_.

He smirked smugly. "You'll never guess who I just saw being dragged mercilessly into Padmé's room."

All pretense of pride flew out the window as Satine sat up. " _Anakin_?" Her husband nodded, leaving her to do nothing but slump back against the headboard of the bed. "When did that happen?"

"A few minutes ago, I suppose. Or they've been putting up a front this whole time." Satisfied that the secret had been told, Obi-Wan yawned. "Who knows how long they've been carrying on. However it is, the secret is out now. There's no hiding it."

Satine stared at the wall, still flabbergasted. Only a few hours earlier, she and Acca had mutually agreed to despair over the couple. In her mind, there had been no possibility of reconciliation. But this news… it certainly spoke of reconciliation, if not something more.

Acca had to know. Immediately.

Obi-Wan opened a single eye as she catapulted out of bed in a frenzied hurry to find her robe. "I thought you said you were going to bed. That you were _exhausted_."

"News like this cannot be treated lightly. My ship has taken off, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I must make sure the crew is ready to man their stations."

* * *

Acca nearly skipped out of her room the next morning. After months of seemingly productless efforts, they were finally getting somewhere.

She'd nearly been asleep when Satine had knocked on her door the night before, but the scent of romance and passion in the air had quickly roused her. Even after the Duchess had left, she'd lay awake for nearly an hour, relieved and anxious at the same time.

Master-Anakin-would finally be happy, as would Padmé. It had been, and always would be, a mystery to her what took them so long to reconcile their differences. They had clearly both been miserable without each other, yet it had taken them nearly a year to make up.

She would never understand humans.

Speaking of humans…

A commotion in the back hall quickly informed her that she was not the only one up, and as she turned the corner, she suddenly got an eyeful of a very wet, very masculine, very human, and very nearly naked Matri.

A sharp shriek left her mouth before she could stop it, and she muttered Ehren curses as she covered her eyes and backed around the corner again. Matri's laugh, loud and deep, echoed through the halls as she bumped into the wall.

"Watch where you're going, _Tami_."

The term, an Ehren endearment that generally was reserved for one's potential mate, made her flush. It wasn't the first time he'd used the word, but neither was she the first girl he'd used it for. More like the fiftieth. "I would if I was not blinded by you so pale," she retorted hotly, not even caring if she wasn't using correct Basic. "Disgusting."

Ahsoka, who Acca hadn't seen at first, laughed, pulling on a tank top. "She's got you there, Matri. You could use a tan."

"I don't tan. I burn. Ever wonder why I go swimming at four in the morning?" Matri crossed his arms over his bare chest, biceps bulging as they flexed instinctively. "What are you doing up so early, anyway? Weren't you up past midnight talking to that boyfriend of yours?"

"Teeto's not my boyfriend. He's just a colleague." Not that he hadn't tried to cross that proffesional barrier before. "And it's not any of your business, anyway."

"Course it is." Matri swaggered over to her, ruffling her hair with one large hand. "You're like a little sister. Everything about your love life is my business. Or lack of everything, if you want to be accurate."

Acca resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at him. After all, the jab was completely true. She didn't have a love life, and she was completely fine with it. As it was, she didn't have time to be in a relationship. She was a senator, and her people came first. Not to mention she was just turning eighteen in a month. After her term was up and she retired, she would still have plenty of time to find a man.

For now, though, she would simply enjoy being single. One romance in the family was plenty for a long time, and she had the feeling they would be telling the story of Anakin and Padmé's for years to come.

 _ **Fin.**_

* * *

 **Wow, I cannot believe it's here! The end of Vanished!**

 **Thank you all for the endless support you've shown during the process of this production. It's been a long (and sometimes hard) journey, but there's no way I could have ever made it without you. I've decided not to put an epilogue on, simply because I may (in the far future) make a sequel to this one. Don't worry, if I do ever decide to do one, you all will be the first to know.**

 **I'd like to give special shoutouts to Rambling anOn, sunmoonwindandstars, stingerfan, and MumsieDo for being some of my first and most constant reviewers! You guys really went above and beyond with your feedback and inspired me so much!**

 **Thank you, Commardbattl, masterkenobi25, Forthwith16, quinnmlrose, primus light bringer, Average White Writer, backdrifting, slypkc, and Mrs Renton for all of the follows and favorites, I'm really grateful for them all. It still amazes me how many people continue to want to grow with this story.**

 **Now, for all of my dear reviewers, who I will be replying to for the last time:**

 **Guest: Thank you so much!**

 **Thatonegirl: Ah, ignore that. When I first started writing this, I was very insecure about my writing style, and wanted to make some sort of warning to keep people who might critique it away. But I'm really glad you think so!**

 **Guest: There was a lot of my pets's, weren't there?**

 **Ember Skywalker: I know, right? Well, I'm pretty sure they're going to be kissing a whole lot after this.**

 **Guest: Thank you, and yes you do! Just look up!**

 **HaywireEagle: Haha, you just voiced the glaring error that I've been hoping no one would notice…**

 **And that's all, folks! Please, go check out my other works and stay tuned for a chapter in Vanished: The Master Chapters. Now that this has been finished, I plan to update in all of those way more often. I love you all, and I hope you enjoyed Vanished. Bye!**

 **Trivia: The beginning of this chapter had me stumped until I remembered that Anakin and Padmé never had the morning balcony scene from AotC. Switched it to night, and Bam!**


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